>-^ 


DUKE 

UNIVERSITY 
LIBRARY 

Treasure  %oom 


American  Antiquarian 
Society 


^:<.>^.    <^y.^.     J^k^-/.^/  ^~^^^CZ. 


/^ 


-2-^^-^ 


^^  /^»-    //^-y^- 


^4y>.:^'    c^.-/^^^ 


-^'^^^i^    /^,>^i-^'>^^^-  ^^^  ^  ^  . 


y^/x^  ///^^^^ 


THE 

LIFE 

OF 

SAMUEL  JOHNSON3  LL.  D. 

COMPREHENDING 

AN  ACCOUNT  OF  HIS  STUDIES, 

AND 

NUMEROUS  WORKS,  IN  CHRONOLOGICAL  ORDER; 

A  SERIES  OF  HIS 

EPISTOLARY  CORRESPONDENCE 

AND 

CONVERSATIONS  WITH  MANY  EMINENT  PERSONS  ; 
AND  VARIOUS  ORIGINAL  PIECES  OF  HIS  COMPOSITION, 

NEPSR  BBPOKB  PUBLISHED  .- 

THE     WHOLE     EXHIBITING     A     VIEW    OF     LITERATURE     AND 

LITERARY  MEN  IN  GREAT-BRITAIN,    FOR  NEAR  HALF  A 

CENTURY  DURING  WHICH  HE  FLOURISHED. 

BY  JAMES  BOSWELL,  ESQ. 

Quo  Jit   Ut    OMNIS 

f^otiva  pateat  veluti  descripta  tabelLi 
Vita  senis Horat. 

FIRST  AMERICAN  FROM  THE  FIFTH  LONDON  EDITION^ 
IN  THREE  VOLUMES. 

VOL.   III. 

BOSTON : 
PUBLISHED  BY  W.  ANDREWS  AND  L.  BLAKE. 


GSfiBjrOVGH  AND  STEBBJNS,  PRJlfTBRS, 

1807. 


THE 


LIFE 


OF 


SAMUEL  JOHNSON,  LL.  D. 


ON  Monday,  April  13,  I  dined  with  Johnson  at 
Mr.  Langton's,  where  were  Dr.  Porteus,  then  Bishop  of  .^.-y^ 
Chester,  now  of  London,  and  Dr.  Stinton.     He  was  at  iEtat. 
first  in  a  very  silent  mood.     Before  dinner  he  said  noth-   ^^* 
ing  but  "  Pretty  baby,"  to  one  of  the  children.     Lang- 
ton  said  very  well  to  me  afterwards,  that  he  could  repeat 
Johnson's  conversation  before  dinner,  as  Johnson  had 
said  that  he  could  repeat  a  complete  chapter  of  "  The 
Natural  History  of  Iceland,"  from  the  Danish  of  Hor- 
rebozn;,  the  whole  of  which  was  exactly  thus  : 


"Chap.  LXXIL     Concerning  Snakes. 

lere  are 
whole  island." 


'  There  are  no  snakes  to  be  met  with  throughout  the 


At  dinner  we  talked  of  another  mode  in  the  newspa' 
pers  of  giving  modern  characters  in  sentences  from  the 
classicks,  and  of  the  passage 

"  Parous  deorum  cultor,  ct  infrequens^ 
"  Insanientis  dum  sapient  ice 
"  Consultus  erro^  nunc  retrorsilm 
"  Vela  dure^  at  que  iter  are  cursus 

"  Cogor  relictos  : 

being  well  applied  to  Soame  Jenyns  ;  who,  after  having 
wandered  in  the  wilds  of  infideUty,  had  returned  to  the 
Christian  faith.  Mr.  Langton  asked  Johnson  as  to  the 
propiiety  oi  sapientice  consultus.     Johnson.  "Though 

^i  7  665  3 


4  THE    LIFE    OF 

1778.  comultus  was  primarily  an  adjective,  like  amicus  it  came 
^^^  to  be  used  as  a  substantive.    So  we  have  Juris  consultus, 
{)9.    a  consult  in  law." 

We  talked  of  the  styles  of  different  painters,  and  how 
certainly  a  connoisseur  could  distinguish  them.  1  ask- 
ed, if  there  was  as  clear  a  difference  of  styles  in  lan- 
guage as  in  painting,  or  even  as  in  hand-writing,  so  that 
the  composition  of  every  individual  may  be  distinguish- 
ed? Johnson.  "Yes.  Those  who  have  a  style  of  em- 
inent excellence,  such  as  Dryden  and  Milton,  can  al- 
ways be  distinguished."  1  had  no  doubt  of  this  ;  but 
what  1  wanted  to  know  was,  whether  there  was  really 
a  peculiar  style  to  every  man  whatever,  there  is  certainly 
a  pecuhar  hand-writing,  a  peculiar  countenance,  not 
widely  different  in  many,  yet  always  enough  to  be  dis- 
tinctive : 


" ■ — '-fades  non  omnibus  una, 

"  Nee  diver sa  tamen" 

The  Bishop  thought  not;  and  said,  he  supposed  that 
many  pieces  in  Dodsley's  collection  of  poems,  though 
all  very  pretty,  had  nothing  appropriated  in  their  style, 
and  in  that  particular  could  not  be  at  all  distinguished. 
Johnson.  "  Why,  Sir,  I  think  every  man  whatever  has 
a  peculiar  style,  which  may  be  discovered  by  nice  ex- 
amination and  comparison  with  others  :  but  a  man  must 
write  a  great  deal  to  make  his  style  obviously  discerni- 
ble. As  logicians  say,  this  appropriation  of  style  is  in- 
finite in  potestate,  limited  iti  actu." 

Mr.  Topham  Beauclerk  came  in  the  evening,  and  he 
and  Dr.  Johnson  and  I  staid  to  supp>er.  It  was  men- 
tioned that  Dr.  Dodd  had  once  wished  to  be  a  member 
of  the  Literary  Club.  Johnson.  "  1  should  be  sorry 
if  any  of  our  Club  were  hanged.  I  will  not  say  but 
some  of  them  deserve  it."  =^  Beauclerk;  (supposing 
this  to  be  aimed  at  persons  for  whom  he  had  at  that 
time  a  wonderful  fancy,  which,  however,  did  not  last 
long,)  was  irritated,  and  eagerly  said,  "  You,  Sir,  have 
a  friend  (naming  him)  who  deserves  to  be  hanged  ;  for 

2  See  VoL  ii.  p.  3C2 


DR.    JOHNSON-  5 

he  speaks  behind  their  backs  against  those  with  whom  i778. 
he  hves  on  the  best  terms,  and  attacks  them  in  the  news-  ^^ 
papers.  He  certainly  ought  to  be  kicked."  Johnson.  69. 
"  Sir,  we  all  do  this  in  some  degree :  '  Veniam  petimus 
damusque  victssim'  To  be  sure  it  may  be  done  so  much, 
that  a  man  may  deserve  to  be  kicked."  Beauclerk. 
"  He  is  very  malignant."  Johnson.  "  No,  Sir  ;  he  is 
not  malignant.  He  is  mischievous,  if  you  will.  He 
would  do  no  man  an  essential  injury ;  he  may,  indeed, 
love  to  make  sport  of  people  by  vexing  their  vanity.  I, 
however,  once  knew  an  old  gentleman  who  was  abso- 
lutely malignant.  He  really  wished  evil  to  others,  and 
rejoiced  at  it."  Boswell.  "  The  gentleman,  Mr.  Beau- 
clerk,  against  whom  you  are  so  violent,  is,  I  know,  a 
man  of  good  principles."  Beauclerk.  "  Then  he  does 
not  wear  them  out  in  practice." 

Dr.  Johnson,  who,  as  1  have  observed  before,  delight- 
ed in  discrimination  of  character,  and  having  a  masterly 
knowledge  of  human  nature,  was  willing  to  take  men 
as  they  are,  imperfect  and  with  a  mixture  of  good  and 
bad  qualities,  I  suppose  thought  he  had  said  enough  in 
defence  of  his  friend,  of  whose  merits,  notwithstanding 
his  exceptionable  points,  he  had  a  just  value  ;  and  add- 
ed no  more  on  the  subject. 

On  Tuesday,  April  14,  I  dined  with  him  at  General 
Oglethorpe's,  with  General  Paoli  and  Mr.  Langton. 
General  Oglethorpe  declaimed  against  luxury.  John- 
son. "  Depend  upon  it,  Sir,  every  state  of  society  is  as 
luxurious  as  it  can  be.  Men  always  take  the  best  they 
can  get."  Oglethorpe.  "  But  the  best  depends  much 
upon  ourselves  ;  and  if  we  can  be  as  well  satisfied  with 
plain  things,  we  are  in  the  wrong  to  accustom  our  pal- 
ates to  what  is  high-seasoned  and  expensive.  What 
says  Addison  in  his  '  Cato,^  speaking  of  the  Numidian  ? 

*  Coarse  are  his  meals,  the  fortune  of  the  chace, 
'  Amid  the  running  stream  he  slakes  his  thirst, 
'  Toils  all  the  day,  and  at  the  approach  of  night, 
'  On  the  first  friendly  bank  he  throws  him  down, 
'  Or  rests  his  head  upon  a  rock  till  morn  ; 
'  And  if  the  following  day  he  chance  to  find 

276653  ' 


THE    LIFE    OF 


1778.      '  A  new  repast,  or  an  untasted  spring, 
^J^      '  Blesses  his  stars,  and  thinks  it  luxury. 


69. 


Let  us  have  f/iat  kind  of  luxury.  Sir,  if  you  will." 
Johnson.  "  But  hold.  Sir  :  to  be  merely  satisfied,  is 
not  enough.  It  is  in  refinement  and  elegance  that  the 
civilized  man  differs  from  the  savage.  A  great  part  of 
our  industry,  and  all  our  ingenuity  is  exercised  in  pro- 
curing pleasure  ;  and.  Sir,  i\  hungry  man  has  not  the 
same  pleasure  in  eating  a  plain  dinner,  that  a  hungry 
man  has  in  eating  a  luxurious  dinner.  You  see  I  put 
the  case  fairly.  A  hungry  man  may  have  as  much,  nay, 
more  pleasure  in  eating  a  plain  dinner,  than  a  man 
grown  fastidious  has  in  eating  a  luxurious  dinner.  But 
I  suppose  the  man  who  decides  between  the  two  din- 
ners, to  be  equally  a  hungry  man." 

Talking  of  different  governments, — Johnson.  "  The 
more  contracted  power  is,  the  more  easily  it  is  destroyed. 
A  country  governed  by  a  despot  is  an  inverted  cone. 
Government  there  cannot  be  so  firm,  as  when  it  rests 
upon  a  broad  basis  gradually  contracted,  as  the  govern- 
ment of  Great  Britain,  which  is  founded  on  the  parlia- 
ment, then  is  in  the  privy-council,  then  in  the  King." 
BoswELL.  "  Power,  when  contracted  into  the  person 
of  a  despot,  may  be  easily  destroyed,  as  the  prince  may 
be  cut  off  So  Caligula  wished  that  the  people  of  Rome 
had  but  one  neck,  that  he  might  cut  them  off  at  a  blow." 
Oglethorpe.  "  It  was  of  the  Senate  he  wished  that. 
The  Senate  by  its  usurpation  controuled  both  the  Em- 
perour  and  the  people.  And  don't  you  think  that  we 
see  too  much  of  that  in  our  own  parhament  ?" 

Dr.  Johnson  endeavoured  to  trace  the  etymology  of 
Maccaronick  verses,which  he  thought  were  of  Italian  in- 
vention from  Maccaroni ;  but  on  being  informed  that 
this  would  infer  that  they  were  the  most  common  and 
easy  verses,  maccaroni  being  the  most  ordinary  and  sim- 
ple food,  he  was  at  a  loss ;  for  he  said,  "  He  rather 
should  have  supposed  it  to  import  in  its  primitive  signi- 
fication, a  composition  of  several  things  ;^  for  Macca- 

2  [Dr.  Johnson  was  right  in  supposing  that  this  kind  of  poetry  derived  its  name 
from  maccbenme.    "  Ars  ista  poetica  (says  Martin  Coecaie,  whose  true  name  \yas 


DR.   JOHNSON.  'J 

ronick  verses  are  verses  made  out  of  a  mixture  of  differ-  1773. 
cut  languages,  that  is,  of  one  language  with  the  termin-  '^^ 
ation  of  another."     I  suppose  we  scarcely  know  of  a    69. 
language  in  any  country  where  there  is  any  learning,  in 
which  that  motley  ludicrous  species  of  composition  may 
not  be  found.     It  is   particularly  droll  in  Low  Dutch. 
The  "  Polemo-middinia"  of  Drummond  of  Hawthorn- 
den,  in  which   there  is  a  jumble  of  many  languages 
moulded,  as  if  it  were  all  in  Latin,  is  well  known.     Mr. 
Langton  made  us  laugh  heartily  at  one  in  the  Grecian 
mould,   by  Joshua  Barnes,  in  which  are  to  be  found 
such  comical  Anglo-heUenisms  as  KKvQQamv  iQai-^-.v :  they 
were  banged  with  clubs. 

On  Wednesday,  April  lo,  I  dined  with  Dr.  Johnson 
at  Mr.  Dilly^s,  and  was  in  high  spirits,  for  I  had  been  a 
good  part  of  the  morning  with  Mr.  Orme,  the  able  and 
eloquent  historian  of  Hindostan,  who  expressed  a  great 
admiration  of  Johnson.  "  I  do  not  care  (said  he,)  on 
what  subject  Johnson  talks  ;  but  1  love  better  to  hear 
him  talk  than  any  body.  He  either  gives  you  new 
thoughts,  or  a  new  colouring.  It  is  a  shame  to  the 
nation  that  he  has  not  been  more  liberally  rewarded. 
Had  I  been  George  the  Third,  and  thought  as  he  did 
about  America,  I  would  have  given  Johnson  three 
hundred  a  year  for  his  '  Taxation  no  Tyranny,'  alone." 
I  repeated  this,  and  Johnson  was  much  pleased  with 
such  praise  from  such  a  man  as  Orme. 

At  Mr.  Dilly's  to-day  were  Mrs.  Knowles,  the  inge- 
nious Quaker  lady,*  Miss  Seward,  the  poetess  of  Lich- 
field, the  Rev.  Dr.  Mayo,  and  the  Rev.  Mr.  Beresford, 
Tutor  to  the  Duke  of  Bedford.  Before  dinner  Dr.  John- 
son seized  upon  Mr.  Charles  Sheridan's*  "  Account  of 
the  late  Revolution  in  Sweden,"  and  seemed  to  read  it 
ravenously,  as  if  he  devoured  it,  which  was  to  all  ap- 

Theophilo  Folangio,)  nuncupatur  ars  macaronica,  a  macaronihas  derivata  ;  qui 
macarones  sunt  quoddam  pulmentum,  farina,  caseo,  butyro  compaginatum,  grossum, 
j.ude,  et  rusticanum.  Ideo  macaronica  nil  nisi  grossedinem,  ruditatem,  et  voca- 
gULAZzos  debet  in  se  continere."     Warton's  Hist,  of  Eng.  Poet.  ii.  S57.     M.] 

=  Dr.  Johnson,  describing  her  needle-work  in  one  of  his  letters  to  Mrs.  Thrale, 
Vol.  I.  p.  326,  uses  the  learned  word  sutiU  ;  which  Mrs.  Thrale  has  mistaken,  and 
made  the  phrase  injurious  by  writing  "futile  pictures." 

[*  The  elder  brother  of  R.  B.  Sheridan  Esq.     He  died  in  1806.     M.} 


8  THE    LIFE    OF 

1778.  pearance  his  method  of  studying.  "  He  knows  how  to 
^^  read  better  than  any  one  (said  Mrs.  Knowles  ;)  he  gets 
69.  at  the  substance  of  a  book  directly  ;  he  tears  out  the 
heart  of  it."  He  kept  it  wrapt  up  in  the  tablecloth  in 
his  lap  during  the  time  of  dinner,  from  an  avidity  to 
have  one  entertainment  in  readiness,  when  he  should 
have  finished  another  ;  resembling  (if  1  may  use  so 
coarse  a  simile)  a  dog  who  holds  a  bone  in  his  paws  in 
reserve,  while  he  eats  something  else  which  has  been 
thrown  to  him. 

The  subject  of  cookery  having  been  very  naturally 
introduced  at  a  table  where  Johnson,  who  boasted  of 
the  niceness  of  his  palate,  owned  that  "  he  always  found 
a  good  dinner,"  he  said,  "  I  could  write  a  better  book 
of  cookery  than  has  ever  yet  been  written  ;  it  should 
be  a  book  upon  philosophical  principles.  Pharmacy  is 
now  made  much  more  simple.  Cookery  may  be  made 
so  too.  A  prescription  which  is  now  compounded  of 
five  ingredients,  had  formerly  fifty  in  it.  So  in  cooke- 
ry, if  the  nature  of  the  ingredients  be  well  known,  much 
fewer  w^ill  do.  Then,  as  you  cannot  make  bad  meat 
good,  I  would  tell  what  is  the  best  butcher's  meat,  the 
best  beef,  the  best  pieces  ;  how  to  choose  young  fowls  ; 
the  proper  seasons  of  different  vegetables  ;  and  then  how 
to  roast  and  boil,  and  compound."  Dilly.  "  Mrs. 
Glasse's  '  Cookery,'  which  is  the  best,  was  written  by 
Dr.  Hill.  Half  the  trade^  know  this."  Johnson. 
"  VV^ell,  Sir.  This  shews  how  much  better  the  subject 
of  Cookery  may  be  treated  by  a  philosopher.  1  doubt 
if  the  book  be  written  by  Dr.  Hill ;  for,  in  Mrs.  Glasse's 
'  Cookery,'  which  I  have  looked  into,  salt-petre  and 
sal-prunella  are  spoken  of  as  different  substances, 
whereas  sal-prunella  is  only  salt-petre  burnt  on  char- 
coal ;  and  Hill  could  not  be  ignorant  of  this.  How- 
ever, as  the  greatest  part  of  such  a  book  is  made  by 
transcription,  this  mistake  may  have  been  carelessly 
adopted.  But  you  shall  see  what  a  Book  of  Cookery 
I  shall    make  \  I  shall  agree  with  Mr.  Dilly   for  the 

*  As  Physicians  are  called  the  Faculty,  and  Counsellors  at  Law  the  Profession,  the 
Booksellers  of  London  are  denominated  the  Trade.  Johnson  disapproved  of  thesi' 
denominations. 


DR.    JOHNSON.  9 

copy-right.^^     Miss  Seward.     "  That  would  be  Her- 1778. 
cules  with  the  distaff  indeed."     Johnson.    "  No,  Mad- ^J^^ 
ara.     Women  can   spin  very  well ;    but  they  cannot   69. 
make  a  good  book  of  Cookery." 

Johnson.  "  O  !  Mr.  Dilly — you  must  know  that  an 
English  Benedictine  Monk  at  Paris  has  translated  '  The 
Duke  of  Berwick's  Memoirs,'  from  the  original  French, 
and  has  sent  them  to  me  to  sell.  I  offered  them  to 
Strahan,  who  sent  them  back  with  this  answer  : — '  That 
the  first  book  he  had  published  was  the  Duke  of  Ber- 
wick's Life,  by  which  he  had  lost :  and  he  hated  the 
name.' — Now  I  honestly  tell  you,  that  Strahan  has  re- 
fused them  ;  but  I  also  honestly  tell  you,  that  he  did 
it  upon  no  principle,  for  he  never  looked  into  them." 
Dilly.  "  Are  they  well  translated,  Sir  I"  Johnson. 
"  Why,  Sir,  very  well — in  a  style  very  current  and  very 
clear.  I  have  written  to  the  Benedictine  to  give  me  an 
answer  upon  two  points  ; — What  evidence  is  there  that 
the  letters  are  authentick?  (for  if  they  are  not  authentick, 
they  are  nothing  ;) — ^And  how  long  will  it  be  before  the 
original  French  is  published  ?  For  if  the  French  edition 
is  not  to  appear  for  a  considerable  time,  the  translation 
will  be  almost  as  valuable  as  an  original  book.  They 
will  make  two  volumes  in  octavo  ;  and  I  have  under- 
taken to  correct  every  sheet  as  it  comes  from  the  press." 
Mr.  Dilly  desired  to  see  them,  and  said  he  would  send 
for  them.  He  asked  Dr.  Johnson,  if  he  would  write  a 
Preface  to  them.  Johnson.  "  No  Sir.  The  Benedic- 
tines were  very  kind  to  me,  and  I'll  do  what  I  under- 
took to  do  ;  but  I  will  not  mingle  my  name  with  them. 
I  am  to  gain  nothing  by  them.  I'll  turn  them  loose 
upon  the  world,  and  let  them  take  their  chance."  Dr. 
Mayo.  "  Pray,  Sir,areGanganelli's  letters  authentick  I" 
Johnson.  "  No  Sir.  Voltaire  put  the  same  question 
to  the  editor  of  them,  that  I  did  to  Macpherson — 
Where  are  the  originals  I" 

Mrs.  Knowles  affected  to  complain  that  men  had 
much  more  liberty  allowed  them  than  women.     John-       / 
son.    "  Why,  Madam,  women  have  all  the  liberty  they      / 
should  wish  to  have.     We  have  all  the  labour  and  the     / 

VOL.  III.  2 


10  THE    LIFE    OF 

'778.  danger,  and  the  women  all  the  advantage.  We  go  to  sea, 
2^  we  build  houses,  we  do  every  thing,  in  short,  to  pay  our 
fig,  court  to  the  women."  Mrs.  Knowles.  "  The  Doctor 
reasons  very  wittily,  but  not  convincingly.  Now,  take 
the  instance  of  building  ;  the  mason's  wife,  if  she  is 
ever  seen  in  liquor,  is  ruined  ;  the  mason  may  get  him- 
self drunk  as  often  as  he  pleases,  with  little  loss  of  char- 
acter ;  nay,  may  let  his  wife  and  children  starve." 
Johnson.  "  Madam,  you  must  consider,  if  the  mason 
does  get  himself  drunk,  and  let  his  wife  and  children 
starve,  the  parish  will  oblige  him  to  find  security  for 
their  maintenance.  We  have  different  modes  of  re- 
straining evil.  Stocks  for  the  men,  a  duckingstool  for 
women,  and  a  pound  for  beasts.  If  we  require  more 
perfection  from  women  than  from  ourselves,  it  is  doing 
them  honour.  And  women  have  not  the  same  tempta- 
tions that  we  have  ;  they  may  always  live  in  virtuous 
company  ;  men  must  mix  in  the  world  indiscriminately. 
If  a  woman  has  no  inclination  to  do  what  is  wrong,  be- 
ing secured  from  it  is  no  restraint  to  her.  I  am  at  liber- 
ty to  walk  into  the  Thames  ;  but  if  I  were  to  try  it,  my 
friends  would  restrain  me  in  Bedlam,  and  I  should  be 
obliged  to  them."  Mrs.  Knowles.  "  Still,  Doctor,  I 
cannot  help  thinking  it  a  hardship  that  more  indulgence 
is  allowed  to  men  than  to  women.  It  gives  a  superiority 
to  men,  to  which  I  do  not  see  how  they  are  entitled." 
Johnson.  "  It  is  plain.  Madam,  one  or  other  must 
have  the  superiority.  As  Shakspeare  says,  '  If  two 
men  ride  on  a  horse,  one  must  ride  behind."  Dilly. 
"  I  suppose,  Sir,  Mrs.  Knowles  would  have  them  ride 
in  panniers,  one  on  each  side."  Johnson.  "  Then,  Sir, 
the  horse  would  throw  them  both."  Mrs.  Knowles. 
"  Well,  I  hope  that  in  another  world  the  sexes  will  be 
equal."  Boswell.  "  That  is  being  too  ambitious,  Mad- 
am. IVe  might  as  well  desire  to  be  equal  with  the  an- 
gels. We  shall  all,  I  hope,  be  happy  in  a  future  state, 
but  we  must  not  expect  to  be  all  happy  in  the  same  de- 
gree. It  is  enough,  if  we  be  happy  according  to  our 
several  capacities.  A  worthy  carman  will  get  to  heav- 
en as  well  a^  Sir  Isaac  Newton.    Yet,  though  equally 


DR.    JOHNSON.  11 

good,  they  will  not  have  the  same  degrees  of  happiness."  '778. 
Johnson.     "  Probably  not.""^  ^^ 

Upon  this  subject  1  had  once  before  sounded  him,  by  ^y. 
mentioning  the  late  Reverend  Mr.  Brown,  of  Utrecht's 
image  ;  that  a  great  and  small  glass,  though  equally  full, 
did  not  hold  an  equal  quantity  ;  which  he  threw  out  to 
refute  David  Hume's  saying,  that  a  little  miss,  going 
to  dance  at  a  ball,  in  a  fine  new  dress,  was  as  happy  as 
a  great  orator,  after  having  made  an  eloquent  and 
applauded  speech.  After  some  thought,  Johnson  said,' 
"  I  come  over  to  the  parson."  As  an  instance  of  coin- 
cidence of  thinking,  Mr.  Dilly  told  me,  that  Dr.  King, 
a  late  dissenting  minister  in  London,  said  to  him,  upon 
the  happiness  in  a  future  state  of  good  men  of  different 
capacities,  "  A  pail  does  not  hold  so  much  as  a  tub  ; 
but,  if  it  be  equally  full,  it  has  no  reason  to  complain. 
Every  Saint  in  heaven  will  have  as  much  happiness  as 
he  can  hold."  Mr.  Dilly  thought  this  a  clear,  though  a 
familiar  illustration  of  the  phrase,  "  One  star  differeth 
from  another  in  brightness." 

Dr.  Mayo  having  asked  Johnson's  opinion  of  Soame 
Jenyns's  "  View  of  the  Internal  Evidence  of  the  Chris- 
tian Religion  ;" — Johnson.  "  I  think  it  a  pretty  book  ; 
not  very  theological  indeed  ;  and  there  seems  to  be  an 
affectation  of  ease  and  carelessness,  as  if  it  were  not 
suitable  to  his  character  to  be  very  serious  about  the 
matter."  Boswell.  "  He  may  have  intended  this  to 
introduce  his  book  the  better  among  genteel  people, 
who  might  be  unwilling  to  read  too  grave  a  treatise. 
There  is  a  general  levity  in  the  age.  We  have  physi- 
cians now  with  bag-wigs  ;  may  we  not  have  airy  divines, 
at  least  somewhat  less  solemn  in  their  appearance  than 
they  used  to  be  ?"  Johnson.  "  Jenyns  might  mean  as 
you  say."  Boswell.  "  You  should  like  his  book,  Mrs. 
Knowles,  as  it  maintains,  as  you  friends  do,  that  cour- 
age is  not  a  Christian  virtue."  Mrs.  Knowles.  "  Yes, 
indeed,  I  like  him  there  ;  but  I  cannot  agree  with  him, 
that  friendship  is  not  a  Christian  virtue."     Johnson. 

'  [See  on  this  question  Bisliop  Hall's  Epistles,  Dec.  iii.  Epist.  6,  "  Of  the  different 
degrees  of  heavenly  glory,  and  of  our  mutual  knowledge  of  each  other  above."  M.] 

'  rSee  vol.  i.  p.  394,  where  also  this  subject  is  discussed.    M.] 


12  THE    LIFE    OF 

1778.  "Why,   Madam,  strictly  speaking,  he  is  right.     AH 
£^  friendship  is  preferring  the  interest  of  a  friend,  to  the 

6g.  neglect^  or,  perhaps,  against  the  interest  of  others  ;  so 
that  an  old  Greek  said,  '  He  that  has  Jriends  has  no 
friend?  Now  Christianity  recommends  universal  be- 
nevolence,— to  consider  all  men  as  our  brethren  ;  which 
is  contrary  to  the  virtue  of  friendship,  as  described  by 
the  ancient  philosophers.  Surely,  Madam,  your  sect 
must  approve  of  this  ;  for,  you  call  all  men  friends." 
Mrs.  Knowles.  "  We  are  commanded  to  do  good  to 
all  men,  '  but  especially  to  them  who  are  of  the  house- 
hold of  Faith/'  Johnson.  "  Well,  Madam.  The 
household  of  Faith  is  wide  enough."  Mrs.  Knowles. 
"  But,  Doctor,  our  Saviour  had  twelve  Apostles,  yet 
there  was  one  whom  he  loved.  John  was  called  '  the 
disciple  whom  Jesus  loved."  Johnson,  (with  eyes 
sparkling  benignantly)  "  Very  well,  indeed.  Madam. 
You  have  said  very  well."  Boswell.  "  A  fine  appli- 
cation. Pray,  Sir,  had  you  ever  thought  of  it?  John- 
son. "  I  had  not,  Sir." 

From  this  pleasing  subject,  he,  I  know  not  how  or 
why,  made  a  sudden  transition  to  one  upon  which  he 
was  a  violent  aggressor  ;  for  he  said,  "  I  am  willing  to 
love  all  mankind,  except  an  American  ;"  and  his  inflam- 
mable corruption  bursting  into  horrid  fire,  he  "  breathed 
out  threatenings  and  slaughter  ;"  calling  them,  "  Ras- 
cals— Robbers — Pirates  ;"  and  exclaiming,  he'd  "  burn 
and  destroy  them."  Miss  Seward,  looking  to  him  with 
mild  but  steady  astonishment,  said,'>  "  Sir,  this  is  an  in- 
stance that  we  are  always  most  violent  against  those 
whom  we  have  injured." — He  was  irritated  still  more 
by  this  delicate  and  keen  reproach  ;  and  roared  out 
another  tremendous  volley,  which  one  might  fancy  could 
be  heard  across  the  Atlantick.  During  this  tempest  I 
sat  in  great  uneasiness,  lamenting  his  heat  of  temper  ; 
till,  by  degrees,  I  diverted  his  attention  to  other  topicks. 
Dr.  Mayo,  (to  Dr.  Johnson)  "  Pray,  Sir,  have  you 
read  Edwards,  of  New  England,  on  Grace?"  Johnson. 
"  No,  Sir."  Boswell.  "  It  puzzled  me  so  much  as  to 
the  freedom  of  the  human  will,  by  stating,  with  won- 
derful acute  ingenuity,  our  being  actuated  by  a  series  of 


DR.    JOHNSON.  13 

motives  which  we  cannot  resist,  that  the  onl}'  rehef  I  '778. 
had  was  to  forget  it."  Mayo.  "  But  he  makes  the  ^^ 
proper  distinction  between  moral  and  physical  neces-  69. 
sity."  BoswELL.  "  Alas,  Sir,  they  come  both  to  the 
same  thing.  You  may  be  bound  as  hard  by  chains 
when  covered  by  leather,  as  when  the  iron  appears. 
The  argument  for  the  moral  necessity  of  human  actions 
is  always,  I  observe,  fortified  by  supposing  universal 
prescience  to  be  one  of  the  attributes  of  the  Deity." 
Johnson.  "  You  are  surer  that  you  are  free,  than  you 
are  of  prescience ;  you  are  surer  that  you  can  lift  up 
your  finger  or  not  as  you  please,  than  you  are  of  any 
conclusion  from  a  deduction  of  reasoning.  But  let  us 
consider  a  little  the  objection  from  prescience.  It  is 
certain  I  am  either  to  go  home  to-night  or  not ;  that 
does  not  prevent  my  freedom."  Boswell.  "  That  it 
is  certain  you  are  either  to  go  home  or  not,  does  not 
prevent  your  freedom  :  because  the  liberty  of  choice 
between  the  two  is  compatible  with  that  certainty.  But 
if  one  of  these  events  be  certain  «oa',  you  have  wo  future 
power  of  volition.  If  it  be  certain  you  are  to  go  home 
to-night,  you  must  go  home."  Johnson.  "  If  I  am  well 
acquainted  with  a  man,  I  can  judge  with  great  probabil- 
ity how  he  will  act  in  any  case,  without  his  being  re- 
strained by  my  judging.  God  may  have  this  probability 
increased  to  certainty."  Boswell.  "  When  it  is  in- 
creased to  certainttf^  freedom  ceases,  because  that  can- 
not be  certainly  foreknown,  which  is  not  certain  at  the 
time  ;  but  if  it  be  certain  at  the  time,  it  is  a  contradic- 
tion in  terms  to  maintain  that  there  can  be  afterwards 
any  contingencij  dependent  upon  the  exercise  of  will  or 
any  thing  else."  Johnson.  "  All  theory  is  against  the 
freedom  of  the  will  ;  all  experience  for  it." — 1  did  not 
push  the  subject  any  farther.  I  was  glad  to  find  him  so 
mild  in  discussing  a  question  of  the  most  abstract  na- 
ture, involved  with  theological  tenets,  which  he  gener- 
ally would  not  suffer  to  be  in  any  degree  opposed.  * 

■°  If  any  of  my  readers  are  disturbed  by  this  thorny  question,  I  beg  leave  to  rec- 
ommend to  them  Letter  69  of  Montesquieu's  Ldtres  Persannes  ;  and  the  kite  Mr. 
John  Pahner  of  Islington's  Answer  to  Dr.  Priestley's  mechanical  arguments  for 
what  he  absurdly  calls  "  Philosophjcal  necessity." 


14  THE    LIFE    OF 

1778.  He,  as  usual,  defended  luxury  :  "You  cannot  spend 
^at^  money  in  luxury  without  doing  good  to  the  poor.  Nay, 
69.  you  do  more  good  to  them  by  spending  it  in  luxury, 
you  make  them  exert  industry,  whereas  by  giving  it, 
you  keep  them  idle.  I  own,  indeed,  there  may  be  more 
virtue  in  giving  it  immediately  in  charity,  than  in  spend- 
ing it  in  luxury  ;  though  there  may  be  pride  in  that 
too."  Miss  Seward  asked,  if  this  was  not  Mandeville's 
doctrine  of  "  private  vices  publick  benefits."  Johnson. 
"  The  fallacy  of  that  book  is,  that  Mandeville  defines 
neither  vices  nor  benefits.  He  reckons  among  vices  ev- 
ery thing  that  gives  pleasure.  He  takes  the  narrowest 
system  of  morality,  monastick  morality,  which  holds 
pleasure  itself  to  be  a  vice,  such  as  eating  salt  with  our 
fish,  because  it  makes  it  eat  better ;  and  he  reckons 
wealth  as  a  publick  benefit,  which  is  by  no  means  al- 
ways true.  Pleasure  Of  itself  is  not  a  vice.  Having  a 
garden,  which  we  all  know  to  be  perfectly  innocent,  is 
a  great  pleasure.  At  the  same  time,  in  this  state  of 
being  there  are  many  pleasures  vices,  which  however 
are  so  immediately  agreeable  that  we  can  hardly  abstain 
from  them.  The  happiness  of  Heaven  will  be,  that 
pleasure  and  virtue  will  be  perfectly  consistent.  Man- 
deville puts  the  case  of  a  man  who  gets  drunk  at  an 
alehouse  ;  and  says  it  is  a  publick  benefit,  because  so 
much  money  is  got  by  it  to  the  publick.  But  it  must 
be  considered,  that  all  the  good  gained  by  this,  through 
the  gradation  of  alehouse-keeper,  brewer,  maltster,  and 
farmer,  is  overbalanced  by  the  evil  caused  to  the  man 
and  his  family  by  his  getting  drunk.  This  is  the  way 
to  try  what  is  vicious,  by  ascertaining  whether  more 
evil  than  good  is  produced  by  it  upon  the  whole,  which 
is  the  case  in  all  vice.  It  may  happen  that  good  is  pro- 
duced by  vice,  but  not  as  vice  ;  for  instance,  a  robber 
may  take  money  from  its  owner,  and  give  it  to  one  who 
will  make  a  better  use  of  it.  Here  is  good  produced  ; 
but  not  by  the  robbery  as  robbery,  but  as  translation  of 
property.  1  read  Mandeville  forty,  or,  I  believe,  fifty 
years  ago.  He  did  not  puzzle  me  ;  he  opened  my  views 
into  real  life  very  much.  No,  it  is  clear  that  the  hap- 
piness of  society  depends  on  virtue.     In  Spaha,  theft 


DR.   JOHNSON.  15 

was  allowed  by  general  consent  :  theft,  therefore,  was  1778. 
there  not  a  crime,  but  then  there  was  no  security  ;  and  ]JJ^, 
what  a  life  must  they  have  had,  when  there  was  no  se-   69.  * 
curity.     Without  truth  there  must  be  a  dissolution  of 
society.     As  it  is,  there  is  so  little  truth,  that  we  are 
almost  afraid  to  trust  our  ears  ;  but  how  should  we  be, 
if  falsehood  were  multiplied  ten  times  !  Society  is  held 
together  by  communication  and  information  ;  and  1  re- 
member this  remark  of  Sir  Thomas  Brown's,  '  Do  the 
devils  lie  ?  No  ;  for  then  Hell  could  not  subsist." 

Talking  of  Miss ,  a  literary  lady,  he  said,  "  I 

was  obliged  to  speak  to  Miss  Reynolds,  to  let  her  know 
that  I  desired  she  would  not  flatter  me  so  much."  Some- 
body now  observed,  "  She  flatters  Garrick."  Johnson. 
"  She  is  in  the  right  to  flatter  Garrick.  She  is  in  the 
right  for  two  reasons  ;  first,  because  she  has  the  world 
with  her,  who  have  been  praising  Garrick  these  thirty 
years  ;  and  secondly,  because  she  is  rewarded  for  it  by 
Garrick.  Why  should  she  flatter  me  /  I  can  do  noth- 
ing for  her.  Let  her  carry  her  praise  to  a  better  market. 
(Then  turning  to  Mrs.  Knowles.)  You,  Madam,  have 
been  flattering  me  all  the  evening  ;  I  wish  you  would 
give  Boswell  a  little  now.  If  you  knew  his  merit  as 
well  as  I  do,  you  would  say  a  great  deal ;  he  is  the  best 
travelling  companion  in  the  world." 

Somebody  mentioned  the  Reverend  Mr.  Mason's 
prosecution  of  Mr.  Murray,  the  bookseller,  for  having 
inserted  in  a  collection  of  "  Gray's  Poems,"  only  fifty 
lines,  of  which  Mr.  Mason  had  still  the  exclusive  prop- 
erty, under  the  statute  of  Queen  Anne  ;  and  that  Mr. 
Mason  had  persevered,  notwithstanding  his  being  re- 
quested to  name  his  own  terms  of  compensation.  ^  John- 
son signified  his  displeasure  at  Mr.  Mason's  conduct 
very  strongly  ;  but  added,  by  way  of  shewing  that  he 
was  not  surprized  at  it,  "  Mason's  a  Whig."  Mrs. 
Knowles,  (not  hearing  distinctly :)  "  What !  a  Prig, 
Sir  \"  Johnson.  "  Worse,  Madam  ;  a  Whig  !  But  he  is 
both !" 

'  See  «  A  Letter  to  W.  Mason,  A.  M.  from  J,  Murray,  Bookseller  in  London  :" 
2d  edition,  p.  20, 


16  THE    LIFE    OF 

1778.  I  expressed  a  horrour  at  the  thought  of  death.  Mrs. 
2J^  Knowles.  "  Nay,  thou  should'st  not  have  a  horrour 
6p,  '  for  what  is  the  gate  of  hfe."  Johnson,  (standing  upon 
the  hearth  rolling  about,  with  a  serious,  solemn,  and 
somewhat  gloomy  air  :)  "  No  rational  man  can  die 
without  uneasy  apprehensions."  Mrs.  Knowles. 
"  The  Scriptures  tell  us,  '  The  righteous  shall  have  hope 
in  his  death."  Johnson.  "  Yes,  Madam  ;  that  is,  he 
shall  not  have  despair.  But,  consider,  his  hope  of  sal- 
vation must  be  founded  on  the  terms  on  which  it  is 
promised  that  the  Mediation  of  our  Saviour  shall  be 
applied  to  us, — namely,  obedience  ;  and  where  obedi- 
ence has  failed,  then,  as  suppletory  to  it,  repentance. 
But  what  man  can  say  that  his  obedience  has  been  such, 
as  he  would  approve  of  in  another,  or  even  in  himself 
upon  close  examination,  or  that  his  repentance  has  not 
been  such  as  to  require  being  repented  of  ?  No  man  can 
be  sure  that  his  obedience  and  repentance  will  obtain 
salvation."  Mrs.  Knowles.  "  But  divine  intimation 
of  acceptance  may  be  made  to  the  soul."  Johnson. 
"  Madam,  it  may ;  but  I  should  not  think  the  better  of 
a  man  who  should  tell  me  on  his  death-bed,  he  was 
sure  of  salvation.  A  man  cannot  be  sure  himself  that 
he  has  divine  intimation  of  acceptance  ;  much  less  can 
he  make  others  sure  that  he  has  it,"  Boswell.  "  Then, 
Sir,  we  must  be  contented  to  acknowledge  that  deatli*is 
a  terrible  thing."  Johnson.  "  Yes,  Sir.  1  have  made 
no  approaches  to  a  state  which  can  look  on  it  as  not 
terrible."  Mrs.  Knowles,  (seeming  to  enjoy  a  pleas- 
ing serenity  in  the  persuasion  of  benignant  divine  light :) 
"  Does  not  St.  Paul  say,  '  1  have  fought  the  good  iight 
of  faith,  I  have  finished  my  course  ;  henceforth  is  laid 
up  for  me  a  crown  of  life  !"  Johnson.  "  Yes,  Madam  ; 
but  here  was  a  man  inspired,  a  man  who  had  been  con- 
verted by  supernatural  interposition."  Boswell.  "In 
prospect  death  is  dreadful  ;  but  in  fact  we  find  that 
people  die  easy."  Johnson.  "  Why,  Sir,  most  people 
have  not  thought  much  of  the  matter,  so  cannot  say 
much,  and  it  is  supposed  they  die  easy.  ¥ew  believe 
it  certain  they  are  then  to  die  ;  and  those  who  do,  set 
themselves  to  behave  with  resolution,  as  a  man  does 


DR.   JOHNSON.  17 

who  is  going  to  be  hanged  : — he  is  not  the  less  unwil-  ^778» 
ling  to   be  hanged."     Miss  Seward    "  There  is  one  £^. 
mode  of  the  fear  of  death,   which  is  certainly  absurd  :   69. 
and  that  is  the  dread  of  annihilation,   which  is  only  a 
pleasing  sleep  without  a  dream."     Johnson.    "  It  is 
neither  pleasing,   nor  sleep  ;  it  is  nothing.     Now  mere 
existence  is  so  much  better  than  nothing,  that  one 
would  rather  exist  even  in  pain,  than  not  exist."  Bos- 
well.    "  If  annihilation  be  nothing,   then  existence  in 
pain   is  not  a  comparative  state,   but  is  a  positive  evil, 
which  I  cannot  think  we  should  choose.     I  must  be  al- 
lowed to  differ  here  ;  and  it   would  lessen  the  hope  of 
a  future  state  founded  on  the  argument,  that  the  Su- 
preme Being,  who  is  good  as  he  is  great,  will  hereafter 
compensate  for  our  present  sufferings  in  this  life.     For 
if  existence,  such  as  we  have  it  here,  be  comparatively 
a  good,  we  have  no  reason  to  complain,  though  no  more 
of  it  should  be  given  to  us.     But  if  our  only  state  of  ex- 
istence were  in  this  world,  then  we  might   with  some 
reason  complain  that  we  are  so  dissatisfied  with  our  en- 
joyments compared  with  our  desires."  Johnson.  "The 
lady  confounds  annihilation,  which  is  nothing,  with  the 
apprehension  of  it,  which  is  dreadful.     It  is  in  the  ap- 
prehension of  it  that  the  horrourof  annihilation  consists." 
Of  John  Wesley,  he  said,  "  He  can  talk  well  on  any 
subject."     Bos  WELL.  "  Pray,  Sir,  what  has  he  made  of 
his  story  of  a  ghost  ?"  Johnson.  "  Why,  Sir,  he  believes 
it ;  but  not  on  sufficient  authority.     He  did  not  take 
time  enough  to  examine  the  girl.     It  was  at  Newcastle, 
where  the  ghost  was  said  to  have  appeared  to  a  young 
woman  several  times,  mentioning  something  about  the 
right  to  an  old  house,  advising  application  to  be  made 
to  an  attorney,  which  was  done  ;  and,  at  the  same  time, 
saying  the  attorney  would  do  nothing,  which  proved  to 
be  the  fact.     '  This  (says  John)  is  a  proof  that  a  ghost 
knows  our  thoughts.*     Now  (laughing)  it  is  not  neces- 
sary to  know  our  thoughts,  to  tell  that  an  attorney  will 
sometimes   do   nothing.     Charles   Wesley,    who  is  a 
more  stationary  man,  does  not  believe  the  story.     I  am 
sorry  that  John  did  not  take  more  pains  to  enquire  into 
the  evidence  for  it."     Miss  Seward,  (with  an  incred- 

VOL.  III.  3 


18  THE    LIFE    OF 

1778.  uloiis  smile  :)  "  What,  Sir !  about  a  ghost  ?"    John- 
^J^  son,  (with  solemn  vehemence  :)  "  Yes,  Madam  :  this 
fig.  *  is  a  question  which,  after  five  thousand  years,  is  yet  un- 
decided: a  question,  whether  in  theology  or  philosophy, 
one  of  the  most  important  that  can  come  before  the  hu- 
man understanding/' 
Mrs.  Knowles  mentioned,  as  a  proselyte  to  Quakerism, 

Miss ,  a  young  lady  well  known  to  Dr.  Johnson, 

for  whom  he  had  shewn  much  affection  ;  while  she  ev- 
er had,  and  still  retained,  a  great  respect  for  him.  Mrs. 
Knowles  at  the  same  time  took  an  opportunity  of  let- 
ting him  know  "  that  the  amiable  young  creature  was 
sorry  at  finding  that  he  was  offended  at  her  leaving 
the  Church  of  England  and  embracing  a  simpler  faith ;" 
and,  in  the  gentlest  and  most  persuasive  manner,  solic- 
ited his  kind  indulgence  for  what  was  sincerely  a  mat- 
ter of  conscience.  Johnson,  (frowning  very  angrily,) 
"  Madam,  she  is  an  odious  wench.  She  could  not 
have  any  proper  conviction  that  it  was  her  duty  to 
change  her  religion,  which  is  the  most  important  of  all 
subjects,  and  should  be  studied  with  all  care,  and  with 
all  the  helps  we  can  get.  She  knew  no  more  of  the 
Church  which  she  left,  and  that  which  she  embraced, 
than  she  did  of  the  difference  between  the  Copernican 
and  Ptolemaick  systems."  Mrs.  Knowles.  "  She  had 
the  New  Testament  before  her."  Johnson.  "Madam, 
she  could  not  understand  the  New  Testament,  the  most 
difficult  book  in  the  world,  for  which  the  study  of  a  life 
is  required."  Mrs.  Knowles.  "  It  is  clear  as  to  essen- 
tials." Johnson.  "  But  not  as  to  controversial  points. 
The  heathens  were  easily  converted,  because  they 
had  nothing  to  give  up  ;  but  we  ought  not,  without 
very  strong  conviction  indeed,  to  desert  the  religion  in 
which  we  have  been  educated.  That  is  the  religion 
given  you,  the  religion  in  which  it  may  be  said  Provi- 
dence has  placed  you.  If  you  live  conscientiously  in 
that  religion,  you  may  be  safe.  But  errour  is  danger- 
ous indeed,  if  you  err  when  you  choose  a  rehgion  for 
yourself."  Mrs.  Knowles.  "  Must  we  then  go  by  im- 
plicit faith  ?"  Johnson.  "  Why,  Madam,  the  greatest 
part  of  our  knowledge  is  implicit  faith  ;  and  as  to  reli- 


DR.   JOHNSON.  19 

gion,  have  we  heard  all  that  a  disciple  of  Confucius,  '778. 
all  that  a  Mahometan,  can  say  for  himself  ?"  He  then  ^^ 
rose  again  into  passion,  and  attacked  the  young  prose-  6g. 
lyte  in  the  severest  terms  of  reproach,  so  that  both  the 
ladies  seemed  to  be  much  shocked.' 

We  remained  together  till  it  was  pretty  late.  Notwith- 
standing occasional  explosions  of  violence,  we  were  all 
dehghted  upon  the  whole  with  Johnson.  I  compared 
him  at  this  time  to  a  warm  West-Indian  climate,  where 
you  have  a  bright  sun,  quick  vegetation,  luxuriant  fo- 
liage, luscious  fruits ;  but  where  the  same  heat  some- 
times produces  thunder,  lightning,  earthquakes,  in  a 
terrible  degree. 

April  17,  being  Good-Friday,  I  waited  on  Johnson, 
as  usual.  I  observed  at  breakfast  that  although  it  was 
a  part  of  his  abstemious  discipline  on  this  most  solemn 
fast,  to  take  no  milk  in  his  tea,  yet  when  Mrs.  Des- 
moulins  inadvertently  poured  it  in,  he  did  not  reject  it. 
I  talked  of  the  strange  indecision  of  mind,  and  imbecility 
in  the  common  occurrences  of  life,  which  we  may  ob- 
serve in  some  people.  Johnson.  "  Why,  Sir,  I  am  in 
the  habit  of  getting  others  to  do  things  for  me."  Bos- 
well.  "What,  Sir!  have  you  that  weakness  ?"  John- 
son.  "  Yes,  Sir.  But  1  always  think  afterwards  I  should 
have  done  better  for  myself." 

I  told  him  that  at  a  gentleman's  house  where  there 
was  thought  to  be  such  extravagance  or  bad  manage- 
ment, that  he  was  living  much  beyond  his  income, 
his  lady  had  objected  to  the  cutting  of  a  pickled  •man- 
go, and  that  I  had  taken  an   opportunity  to  ask  the 

'  Mrs.  Knowles,  not  satisfied  with  the  fame  of  her  needle-work,  the  "  sutile 
futures"  mentioned  by  Johnson,  in  which  she  has  indeed  displayed  much  dexterity, 
nay,  with  the  fame  of  reasoning  better  than  women  generally  do,  as  I  have  fairly 
shewn  her  to  have  done,  communicated  to  me  a  Dialogue  of  considerable  length, 
which  after  many  years  had  elapsed,  she  wrote  down  as  having  passed  between 
Dr.  Johnson  and  her  at  this  interview.  As  I  had  not  the  least  recollection  of  it, 
and  did  not  find  the  smallest  trace  of  it  in  my  Record  taken  at  the  time,  I  could 
not  in  consistency  with  my  firm  regard  to  authenticity,  insert  it  in  my  work.  It 
iias  however,  been  published  in  "  The  Gentleman's  Magazine"  for  June  1791.  It 
chiefly  relates  to  the  principles  of  the  sect  called  Quakers  ;  and  no  doubt  the  lady 
appears  to  have  greatly  the  advantage  of  Dr.  Johnson  in  argument  as  well  as  ex- 
pression. From  what  I  have  now  stated,  and  from  the  internal  evidence  of  the 
paper  itfelf,  any  one  who  may  have  the  curiosity  to  peruse  it,  will  judge  whether 
't  was  wrong  in  me  to  reject  it,  however  willing  to  gratify  Mrs.  Knowles. 


20  THE    LIFE    OF 

1778.  price  of  it,  and  found  it  was  only  two  shillings  ;    so 
^^  here  was  a  very  poor  saving.     Johnson.  "  Sir,  that 
69.    is  the  blundering  oeconomyof  a  narrow  understanding. 
It  is  stopping  one  hole  in  a  sieve." 

I  expressed  some  inclination  to  publish  an  account 
of  my  Travels  upon  the  continent  of  Europe,  for  which 
I  had  a  variety  of  materials  collected.  Johnson.  "  I 
do  not  say,  Sir,  you  may  not  publish  your  travels  ;  but 
I  give  you  my  opinion,  that  you  would  lessen  yourself 
by  it.  What  can  you  tell  of  countries  so  well  known  as 
those  upon  the  continent  of  Ruropc,  which  you  have 
visited  V'  Bos  well.  "  But  1  can  give  an  entertaining 
narrative,  with  many  incidents,  anecdotes, y^e^^r  d'esprh, 
and  remarks,  so  as  to  make  very  pleasant  reading.'' 
Johnson.  "  Why,  Sir,  most  modern  travellers  in  Europe 
who  have  published  their  travels,  have  been  laughed  at : 
I  would  not  have  you  added  to  the  number.*  The 
world  is  now  not  contented  to  be  merely  entertained  by 
a  traveller's  narrative  ;  they  want  to  learn  something. 
Now  some  of  my  friends  asked  me,  why  1  did  not  give 
some  account  of  my  travels  in  France.  The  reason  is 
plain  ;  inteUigent  readers  had  seen  more  of  France  than 
I  had.  You  might  have  liked  my  travels  in  France,  and 
The  Club  might  have  liked  them  ;  but,  upon  the 
"whole,  there  would  have  been  more  ridicule  than  good 
produced  by  them."  Boswell.  *'  I  cannot  agree  with 
you.  Sir.  People  would  like  to  read  what  you  say  of 
any  thing.  Suppose  a  face  has  been  painted  by  fifty 
paintfers  before  ;  still  we  love  to  see  it  done  by  Sir  Josh- 
ua." Johnson.  "  True,  Sir,  but  Sir  Joshua  cannot 
paint  a  face  when  he  has  not  time  to  look  on  it."  Bos- 
well. "  Sir,  a  sketch  of  any  sort  by  him  is  valuable. 
And,  Sir,  to  talk  to  you  in  your  own  style  (raising  my 
voice,  and  shaking  my  head,)  you  should  have  given  us 
your  Travels  in  France.  1  am  sure  I  am  right,  and 
there'' s  an  end  onU." 

1  said  to  him  that  it  was  certainly  true,  as  my  friend 
Dempster  had  observed  in  his  letter  to  me  upon  the 

-  I  believe,  however,  I  shall  follow  my  own  opinion  ;  for  the  world  has  shewo 
a  Very  flattering  partiality  to  my  writings,  on  many  occasions. 


DR.    JOHNSON.  21 

subject,  that  a  great  part  of  what  was  in  his  "  Journey  1778. 
to  the  Western  Islands  of  Scotland,''  had  be^n  in   his  ]J^^ 
mind  before  he  left  London.     Johnson.  "  W  hy  yes,   69. 
Sir,  the  topicks  were  ;  and  books  of  travels  will  be 
good  in  proportion  to  what  a  man  has  previously  in  his 
mind  ;  his   knowing  what  to  observe  ;  his  power  of 
contrasting  one  mode   of  life  with  another.     As  the 
Spanish  proverb  says,  *  He,  who  would  bring  home  the 
wealth  of  the  Indies,  must  carry  the  wealth  of  the  Indies 
with  him.'     So  it  is  in  travelling  ;  a  man   must  carry 
knowledge  with  him,  if  he  would  bring  home  know- 
ledge."    BoswELL.   "    The   proverb,  I   suppose,    Sir, 
means,  he  must  carry  a  large  stock  with  him  to  trade 
with."    Johnson.  "  Yes,  Sir." 

It  was  a  delightful  day  :  as  we  walked  to  St.  Clem- 
ent's church,  1  again  remarked  that  Fleet-street  was 
the  most  cheerful  scene  in  the  world.  "  Fleet-street 
(said  I,)  is  in  my  mind  more  delightful  than  Tempe." 
Johnson.  "  Ay,  Sir  ;  but  let  it  be  compared  with 
Mull." 

There  was  a  very  numerous  congregation  to-day  at 
St.  Clement's  church,  which  Dr.  Johnson  said  he  ob- 
served with  pleasure. 

And  now  I  am  to  give  a  pretty  full  account  of  one 
of  the  most  curious  incidents  in  Johnson's  life,  of 
which  he  himself  has  made  the  following  minute  on 
this  day  ;  "  In  my  return  from  church,  I  was  accosted 
by  Edwards,  an  old  fellow-collegian,  who  had  not  seen 
me  since  1729-  He  knew  me,  and  asked  if  I  remem- 
bered one  Edwards  ;  I  did  not  at  first  recollect  the  name, 
but  gradually  as  we  walked  along,  recovered  it,  and  told 
him  a  conversation  that  had  passed  at  an  alehouse  be- 
tween us.  My  purpose  is  to  continue  our  acquaint- 
ance." 3 

It  was  in  Butcher-row  that  this  meeting  happened. 
Mr.  Edwards,  who  was  a  decent-looking  elderly  man  in 
grey  clothes,  and  a  wig  of  many  curls,  accosted  John- 
son with  familiar  confidence,  knowing  who  he  was,  while 
Johnson  returned  his  salutaion   with  a  courteous  for- 

^  Prayers  and  Meditations,  p.  164. 


22  THE    LIFE    OF 

J778.  mality,  as  to  a  stranger.  But  as  soon  as  Edwards  had 
2J^  brought  to  his  recollection  their  having  been  at  Pem- 
69,  '  broke-College  together  nine-and-forty  years  ago,  he 
seemed  much  pleased,  asked  where  he  lived,  and  said 
he  should  be  glad  to  see  him  in  Bolt-court.  Edwards. 
"  Ah,  Sir  !  we  are  old  men  now."  Johnson,  (who  never 
]iked  to  think  of  being  old  :)  "  Don't  let  us  discourage 
one  another."  Edwards.  "  Why,  Doctor,  you  look 
stout  and  hearty,  1  am  happy  to  see  you  so ;  for  the 
newspapers  told  us  you  were  very  ill."  Johnson.  "  Ay, 
Sir,  they  are  always  telling  lies  of  us  old  fellows" 

Wishing  to  be  present  at  more  of  so  singular  a  conver- 
sation as  that  between  two  fellow-collegians,  who  had 
lived  forty  years  in  London  without  ever  having  chanced 
to  meet,  1  whispered  to  Mr.  Edwards  that  Dr.  Johnson 
was  going  home,  and  that  he  had  better  accompany 
him  now.  So  Edwards  walked  along  with  us,  1  eagerly 
assisting  to  keep  up  the  conversation.  Mr.  Edwards  in- 
formed Dr.  Johnson  that  he  had  practised  long  as  a  soli- 
citor in  Chancery,  but  that  he  now  lived  in  the  country 
upon  a  little  farm,  about  sixty  acres,  just  by  Stevenage  in 
Hertfordshire,  and  that  he  came  to  London  (to  Barnard's 
Inn,  No.  6,)  generally  twice  a  week.  Johnson  appear- 
ing to  me  in  a  reverie,  Mr.  Edwards  addressed  himself 
to  me,  and  expatiated  on  the  pleasure  of  living  in  the 
country.  Boswell.  "  1  have  no  notion  of  this,  Sir. 
W^hat  you  have  to  entertain  you,  is,  1  think,  exhausted 
in  half  an  hour."  Edwards.  "  What?  don't  you  love 
to  have  hope  realized  I  1  see  my -grass,  and  my  corn, 
and  my  trees  growing.  Now,  for  instance,  1  am  curi- 
ous to  see  if  this  frost  has  not  nipped  my  fruit-trees." 
Johnson,  (who  we  did  not  imagine  was  attending  :) 
*'•  You  find.  Sir,  you  have  fears  as  well  as  hopes." — So 
well  did  he  see  the  whole,  when  another  saw  but  the 
half  of  a  subject. 

When  we  got  to  Dr.  Johnson's  house,  and  were 
seated  in  his  library,  the  dialogue  went  on  admirably. 
Edwards.  "  Sir,  1  remember  you  would  not  let  us 
S2iy  prodigious  2iX.  CoWe^e.  For  even  then.  Sir,  (turn- 
ing to  me,)  he  was  delicate  in  language,  and  we  all 


DR.   JOHNSON.  25 

feared  him."*  Johnson,  (to  Edwards :)  "  From  your  i"78. 
having  practised  the  law  long,  Sir,  1  presume  you  ^J^ 
must  be  rich."  Edwards.  "  No,  Sir  ;  I  got  a  good  69.  * 
deal  of  money  ;  but  I  had  a  number  of  poor  relations 
to  whom  1  gave  a  great  part  of  it."  Johnson.  "  Sir, 
vou  have  been  rich  in  the  most  valuable  sense  of  the 
word."  Edwards.  "  But  I  shall  not  die  rich."  John- 
son. "  Nay,  sure,  sir,  it  is  better  to  /ive  rich,  than  to  die 
rich."  Edwards.  "  I  wish  I  had  continued  at  Col- 
lege." Johnson.  "  Why  do  you  wish  that.  Sir  l"  Ed- 
wards. "  Because  I  think  I  should  have  had  a  much 
easier  life  than  mine  has  been.  1  should  have  been  a 
parson,  and  had  a  good  living,  like  Bloxham  and  several 
others,  and  lived  comfortably."  Johnson.  "  Sir,  the  life  of 
a  parson,  of  a  conscientious  clergyman,  is  not  easy.  I 
have  always  considered  a  clergyman  as  the  father  of  a 
larger  family  than  he  is  able  to  maintain.  I  would 
rather  have  Chancery  suits  upon  my  hands  than  the 
cure  of  souls.  No,  Sir,  I  do  not  envy  a  clergyman's 
life  as  an  easy  life,  nor  do  I  envy  the  clergyman  who 
makes  it  an  easy  life." — Here  taking  himself  up  all  of 
a  sudden,  he  exclaimed,  "  O  !  Mr.  Edwards  !  Pll  con- 
vince you  that  I  recollect  you.  Do  you  remember  our 
drinking  together  at  an  alehouse  near  Pembroke  gate. 
At  that  time,  you  told  me  of  the  Eton  boy,  who,  when 
verses  on  our  Saviour's  turning  water  into  wine  were 
prescribed  as  an  exercise,  brought  up  a  single  line, 
which  was  highly  admired  : 

*  Vidit  et  erubuit  lympha  pudica  Deum.'^ 

*  Johnson  said  to  me  afterwards,  "  Sir,  they  respected  me  for  literature  ;  and 
yet  it  was  not  great  but  by  comparison.  Sir,  it  is  amazing  how  little  literature 
there  is  in  the  world." 

"■  [This  line  has  frequently  been  attributed  to  Dryden,  when  a  King's  Scholar  at 
Westminster.  But  neither  Eton  nor  Westminster  have  in  truth  any  claim  to  it, 
the  line  being  borrowed,  with  a  slight  change,  (as  Mr.  Bindley  has  observed  to 
me,)  from  an  epigram  by  Crashaw,  which  was  pubUshed  in  his  Epigrammata 
Sacra,  first  printed  at  Cambridge  without  the  author's  name,  in  1634,  8vo.— 
The  original  is  much  more  elegant  than  the  copy,  the  water  'oeing  personified,  and 
the  word  on  which  the  point  of  the  Epigram  turns,  being  reserved  to  the  close  o"*' 
the  line  : 

"  JOANN.   2. 

"  Aquae  in  vinum  versa. 
"  Unde  rubor  vestris  et  non  sua  purpura  lymphis  ' 


24  THE    LIFE    OP 

1778.  and  I  told  you  of  another  fine  line  in  '  Camden's  Re- 
^'^  mains/  an  eulogy  upon  one  of  our  Kings,    who  was 
6g.   succeeded  by  his  son,  a  prince  of  equal  merit : 

*  Mira  cano,  Sol  occubuit,  nox  nulla  secuta  est." 

Edwards.  "  You  are  a  philosopher,  Dr.  Johnson. 
I  have  tried  too  in  my  time  to  be  a  philosopher  ;  but, 
I  don't  know  how,  cheerfulness  was  always  breaking 
in." — Mr.  Burke,  Sir  Joshua  Reynolds,  Mr.  Courtenay, 
Mr.  Malone,  and,  indeed,  all  the  eminent  men  to 
whom  I  have  mentioned  this,  have  thought  it  an  exqui- 
site trait  of  character.  The  truth  is,  that  philosophy, 
like  religion,  is  too  generally  supposed  to  be  hard  and 
severe,  at  least  so  grave  as  to  exclude  all  gaiety. 

Edwards.  "  I  have  been  twice  married,  Doctor. 
You,  1  suppose,  have  never  known  what  it  was  to  have 
a  wife."  Johnson.  "  Sir,  I  have  known  what  it  was 
to  have  a  wife,  and  (in  a  solemn  tender  faltering  tone) 
I  have  known  what  it  was  to  /ose  a  wife. — It  had  al- 
most broke  my  heart." 

Edwards.  "  How  do  you  live,  Sir  ?  For  my  part, 
I  must  have  my  regular  meals,  and  a  glass  of  good 
wine.  1  find  1  require  it."  Johnson.  "  1  now  drink 
no  wine,  Sir.  Early  in  life  I  drank  wine  :  for  many  years 
I  drank  none.  I  then  for  some  years  drank  a  great 
deal."  Edwards.  *'  Some  hogsheads,  I  warrant  you." 
Johnson.  "  I  then  had  a  severe  illness,  and  left  it  off, 
and  1  have  never  begun  it  again.  I  never  felt  any  dif- 
ference upon  myself  from  eating  one  thing  rather  than 
another,  nor  from  one  kind  of  weather  rather  than  anoth- 
er. There  are  people,  1  believe,  who  feel  a  difference  ; 
but  I  am  not  one  of  them.  And  as  to  regular  meals,  I 
have  fasted  from  the  Sunday's  dinner  to  the  Tuesday's 
dinner,  without  any  inconvenience.  1  believe  it  is 
best  to  eat  just  as  one  is  hungry  :  but  a  man  who  is  in 
business,  or  a  man  who  has  a  family,  must  have  stated 
meals.  I  am  a  straggler.  1  may  leave  this  town  and 
go  to  Grand  Cairo,  without  being  missed  here  or  observ- 

"  Qux  rosa  mirantes  tarn  nova  mutat  aquas  ? 
"  Numen,  convivse,  praesens  agnoscite  numen, 
"  Nympha  pudica  Deum  vidit,  ct  erubuit.     M.l 


DR.    JOHNSON.  23 

ed  there.^*      Edwards.    "  Don't  you  eat  supper,  Sir !"  1778. 
Johnson.  "  No,  Sir/'    Edwards.  "  For  my  part,  now,  ^J^ 
I  consider  supper  as  a  turnpike  through   which    one   69. 
must  pass,  in  order  to  get  to  bed."^ 

Johnson.  "  You  are  a  lawyer,  Mr.  Edwards.  Law- 
yers know  life  practically.  A  bookish  man  should  al- 
ways have  them  to  converse  with.  They  have  what  he 
wants."  Edwards.  "  1  am  grown  old  :  1  am  sixty- 
five."  Johnson.  "  1  shall  be  sixty-eight  next  birth- 
day. Come,  Sir,  drink  water,  and  put  in  for  a  hun- 
dred." 

Mr.  Edwards  mentioned  a  gentleman  who  had  left 
his  whole  fortune  to  Pembroke  College.  Johnson. 
"  Whether  to  leave  one's  whole  fortune  to  a  College 
be  right,  must  depend  upon  circumstances.  1  would 
leave  the  interest  of  the  fortune  1  bequeathed  to  a  Col- 
lege to  my  relations  or  my  friends,  for  their  lives.  It  is 
the  same  thing  to  a  College,  which  is  a  permanent  so- 
ciety, whether  it  gets  the  money  now  or  twenty  years 
hence  ;  and  1  would  wish  to  make  my  relations  or 
friends  feel  the  benefit  of  it." 

This  interview  confirmed  my  opinion  of  Johnson's 
most  humane  and  benevolent  heart.  His  cordial  and 
placid  behaviour  to  an  old  fellow  collegian,  a  man  so 
different  from  himself;  and  his  telling  him  that  he 
would  go  down  to  his  farm  and  visit  him,  shewed  a 
kindness  of  disposition  very  rare  at  an  advanced  age. 
He  observed,  '•  how  wonderful  it  was  that  they  had 
both  been  in  London  forty  years,  without  having  ever 
once  met,  and  both  walkers  in  the  street  too  I"  Mr. 
Edwards,  when  going  away,  again  recurred  to  his  con- 
sciousness of  senility,  and  looking  full  in  Johnson's  face, 
said  to  him,  "  You'll  find  in  Dr.  Young, 

'  O  my  coevals  !    remnants  of  yourselves." 

Johnson  did  not  relish  this  at  all  ;  but  shook  his  head 
with  impatience.  Edwards  walked  off  seemingly  high- 
ly pleased  with  the  honour  of  having  been  thus  noticed 
by  Dr.  Johnson.      When  he  was  gone,  I  said  to  John- 

'  I  am  not  absolutely  sure  but  this  was  my  own  suggestion,  though  it  is  truly 
in  the  character  of  Edwards. 

VOL.   III.  4 


26  THE    LIFE    OF 

J778.  soil,  I  thought  hira  but  a  weak  man.  Johnson.  "  Why 
^^  yes,  Sir.  Here  is  a  man  who  has  passed  through  life 
Cp.  without  experience  :  yet  I  would  rather  have  him  with 
me  than  a  more  sensible  man  who  will  not  talk  readily. 
This  man  is  always  willing  to  say  what  he  has  to  say." 
Yet  Dr.  Johnson  had  himself  by  no  means  that  will- 
ingness which  he  praised  so  much,  and  I  think  so  just- 
ly ;  for  who  has  not  felt  the  painful  effect  of  the  dreary 
void,  when  there  is  a  total  silence  in  a  company,  for 
any  length  of  time  ;  or,  which  is  as  bad,  or  perhaps 
worse,  when  the  conversation  is  with  difficulty  kept  up 
by  a  perpetual  effort  ? 

Johnson  once  observed  to  me,  "  Tom  Tyers  de- 
scribed me  the  best  :  '  Sir,  (said  he,)  you  are  like  a 
ghost  :  you  never  speak  till  you  are  spoken  to." 

The  gentleman  whom  he  thus  familiarly  mentioned, 
was  Mr.  Thomas  Tyers,  son  of  Mr.  Jonathan  Tyers, 
the  founder  of  that  excellent  place  of  publick  amuse- 
ment, Vauxhall  Gardens,  which  must  ever  be  an  estate 
to  its  proprietor,  as  it  is  peculiarly  adapted  to  the  taste 
of  the  English  nation  ;  there  being  a  mixture  of  curi- 
ous shew, — gay  exhibition, — musick,  vocal  and  instru- 
mental, not  too  refined  for  the  general  ear  ; — for  all 
which  only  a  shilling  is  paid  ■,^  and,  though  last,  not 
least,  good  eating  and  drinking  for  those  who  choose  to 
purchase  that  regale.  Mr.  Thomas  Tyers  was  bred  to 
the  law  ;  but  having  a  handsome  fortune,  vivacity  of 
temper,  and  eccentricity  of  mind,  he  could  not  confine 
himself  to  the  regularity  of  practice.  He  therefore  ran 
about  the  world  with  a  pleasant  carelessness,  amusing 
every  body  by  his  desultory  conversation.  He  abound- 
ed in  anecdote,  but  was  not  sufficiently  attentive  to  ac- 
curacy. I  therefore  cannot  venture  to  avail  myself 
much  of  a  biographical  sketch  of  Johnson  which  he  pub- 
lished, being  one  among  the  various  persons  ambitious  of 
appending  their  names  to  that  of  my  illustrious  friend. 

"  In  summer  1792,  additional  and  more  expensive  decorations,  having  been  in- 
troduced, tlie  pwice  of  admission  was  raised  to  two  shillings.  I  cannot  approve  of 
this.  The  company  may  be  more  select ;  but  a  number  of  the  honest  commonalty 
are,  I  fear,  excluded  from  sharing  in  elegant  and  innocent  entertainment.  An  at- 
tempt to  abolish  the  one-shilling  gallery  at  the  playhouse  has  been  very  properly 
counteracted. 


DR.    JOHNSON.  27 

That  sketch  is,   however,  an  entertaining  little  collec- 1 778. 
tion  of  fragments.     Those  which  he  published  of  Pope  ^^ 
and  Addison  are  of  higher  merit  ;  but  his  fame  must  6(). 
chiefly  rest    upon    his    "    Political    Conferences,"   in 
which  he  introduces  several  eminent  persons  deliver- 
ing their  sentiments  in   the  way  of  dialogue,   and  dis- 
covers a  considerable  share  of  learning,  various  knowl- 
edge, and  discernment  of  character.     This  much  may 
I  be  allowed  to  say  of  a  man  who  was  exceedingly 
obliging  to  me,  and  who  lived  with  Dr.  Johnson  in  as 
easy  a  manner  as  almost  any  of  his  very  numerous 
acquaintance. 

Mr.  Edwards  had  said  to  me  aside,  that  Dr.  Johnson 
should  have  been  of  a  profession.  I  repeated  the  re- 
mark to  Johnson  that  1  might  have  his  own  thoughts 
on  the  subject.  Johnson.  "  Sir,  it  ivould  have  been 
better  that  I  had  been  of  a  profession.  I  ought  to 
have  been  a  lawyer."  Boswell.  "  1  do  not  think, 
Sir,  it  would  have  been  better,  for  we  should  not  have 
had  the  English  Dictionary."  Johnson.  "  But  you 
would  have  had  Reports."  Boswell.  "  Ay  ;  but 
there  would  not  have  been  another,  who  could  have 
written  the  Dictionary.  There  have  been  many  very 
good  Judges.  Suppose  you  had  been  Lord  Chancel- 
lor ;  you  would  have  delivered  opinions  with  more 
extent  of  mind,  and  in  a  more  ca-namented  manner, 
than  perhaps  any  Chancellor  ever  did,  or  ever  will  do. 
But,  I  believe,  causes  have  been  as  judiciously  decided 
as  you  could  have  done."  Johnson.  "  Yes,  Sir. 
Property  has  been  as  well  settled." 

Johnson,  however,  had  a  noble  ambition  floating  in 
his  mind,  and  had,  undoubtedly,  often  speculated  on 
the  possibility  of  his  supereminent  powers  being  re- 
warded in  this  great  and  liberal  country  by  the  highest 
honours  of  the  state.  Sir  William  Scott  informs  me, 
that  upon  the  death  of  the  late  Lord  Lichfield,  who 
was  Chancellor  of  the  University  of  Oxford,  he  said  to 
Johnson,  "  What  a  pity  it  is,  Sir,  that  you  did  not  fol- 
low the  profession  of  the  law.  You  might  have  been 
Lord  Chancellor  of  Great  Britain,  and  attained  to  the 
dignity  of  the  peerage  ;    aad  now  that  the  title  of 


28  THE    LIFE    OF 

1778.  Lichfield,  your  native  city,  is  extinct,  you  might  have 
^J^  had  it."  Johnson,  upon  this,  seemed  much  agitated  ; 
eg.  and,  in  an  angry  tone,  exclaimed,  "  Why  will  you  vex 
me  by  suggesting  this,  when  it  is  too  late  ?" 

But  he  did  not  rejDine  at  the  prosperity  of  others. 
The  late  Dr.  Thomas  ]^eland  told  Mr.  Courtenay,  that 
when  Mr.  Edmund  Burke  shewed  Johnson  his  fine 
house  and  lands  near  Beaconsfield,  Johnson  coolly 
said,  '  No7i  equidem  invideo  ;  miror  magis.'  ^ 

Yet  no  man  had  a  higher  notion  of  the  dignity  of 
literature  than  Johnson,  or  was  more  determined  in 
maintaining  the  respect  which  he  justly  considered  as 
due  to  it.  Of  this,  besides  the  general  tenour  of  his 
conduct  in  society,  some  characteristical  instances  may 
be  mentioned. 

He  told  Sir  Joshua  Reynolds,  that  once  when  he 
dined  in  a  numerous  company  of  booksellers,  where 
the  room  being  small,  the  head  of  the  table,  at  which 
he  sat,  was  almost  close  to  the  fire,  he  persevered  in 
suffering  a  great  deal  of  inconvenience  from  the  heat, 
rather  than  quit  his  place,  and  let  one  of  them  sit 
above  him. 

Goldsmith,  in  his  diverting  simplicity,  complained 
one  day,  in  a  mixed  company,  of  Lord  Camden.  "  I 
met  him  (said  he)  at  Lord  Clare's  house  in  the  coun- 
try, and  he  took  no  more  notice  of  me  than  if  1  had 
been  an  ordinary  man."     The  company  having  laughed 

^  I  am  not  entirely  without  susfjicion  tliat  Jolinson  may  have  felt  a  little  mo~ 
nientary  envy  ;  for  no  man  loved  the  good  things  of  this  life  better  than  he  did  ; 
and  he  could  not  but  be  conscious  tliat  he  deserved  a  much  larger  share  of  them, 
than  he  ever  had.  I  attempted  in  a  newspaper  to  comment  on  the  above  passage 
in  the  manner  of  Warburton,  who  riust  be  allowed  to  have  sliewn  uncommon  in* 
genuity,  in  giving  to  any  authour's  text  whatever  meaning  he  chose  it  should  carry. 
As  this  imitation  may  amuse  my  readers,  1  shall  here  introduce  it  : 

"  No  saying  of  Dr.  Johnson's  has  been  more  misunderstood  than  his  applying 
to  Mr.  Burke  when  he  first  saw  him  at  his  fine  place  at  Beaconsfield,  Non  equidem 
invideo  ;  miror  m.iajs.  These  two  celebrated  men  had  been  friends  for  many  years 
before  Mr.  Burke  entered  on  his  parliamentary  career.  They  were  both  writers, 
both  members  of  The  Literarv  Club  ;  when,  therefore,  Dr.  Johnson  saw  Mr. 
Burke  in  a  situation  so  much  more  splendid  than  that  to  which  he  himself  had 
attained,  he  did  not  mean  to  express  that  he  thought  it  a  disproportionate  prosper- 
ity ;  but  while  he,  .is  a  philosopher,  asserted  an  exemption  from  envy,  non  equidem 
invideo,  he  went  on  in  the  words  of  the  poet  miror  magis ;  thereby  signifying,  either 
that  he  was  occupied  in  admiring  what  he  was  glad  to  see  ;  or,  perhaps,  that  con^. 
sidering  the  general  lot  of  men  of  superiour  abilities,  he  wondered,  that  Fortune, 
who  is  represented  as  blind,  should,  in  this  instance,  have  been  so  just." 


DR.    JOHNSON.  29 

heartily,  Johnson  stood  forth  in  defence  of  his  friend.  1778. 
"  Nay,  Gentlemen,  (said  he,)  Dr.  Goldsmith  is  in  the  ^J^ 
right.      A  nobleman  ought  to  have  made  up  to  such  a    69. 
man   as  Goldsmith  ;  and  I  think  it  is  much  against 
Lord  Camden  that  he  neglected  him." 

Nor  could  he  patiently  endure  to  hear,  that  such 
respect  as  he  thought  due  only  to  higher  intellectual 
qualities,  should  be  bestowed  on  men  of  shghter, 
though  perhaps  more  amusing  talents.  1  told  him, 
that  one  morning,  when  1  went  to  breakfast  with  Gar- 
rick,  who  was  very  vain  of  his  intimacy  with  Lord 
Camden,  he  accosted  me  thus  : — "  Fray  now,  did  you 
— did  you  meet  a  little  lawyer  turning  the  corner, 
eh  V — "  No,  Sir,  (said  L)  Pray  what  do  you  mean 
by  the  question  ?" — "  Why,  (replied  Garrick,  with  an 
affected  indifference,  yet  as  if  standing  on  tip-toe,) 
Lord  Camden  has  this  moment  left  me.  We  have 
had  a  long  walk  together."  Johnson.  "  Well,  Sir, 
Garrick  talked  very  properly.  Lord  Camden  zvas  a 
/itt/e  luwijer  to  be  associating  so  familiarly  with  a 
player," 

Sir  Joshua  Reynolds,  observed,  with  great  truth, 
that  Johnson  considered  Garrick  to  be  as  it  were  his 
property.  He  would  allow  no  man  either  to  blame  or 
to  praise  Garrick  in  his  presence,  without  contradicting 
him. 

Having  fallen  into  a  very  serious  frame  of  mind,  in 
which  mutual  expressions  of  kindness  passed  between 
us,  such  as  would  be  thought  too  vain  in  me  to  repeat, 
I  talked  with  regret  of  the  sad  inevitable  certainty  that 
one  of  us  must  survive  the  other.  Johnson.  "  Yes, 
Sir,  that  is  an  affecting  consideration.  I  remember 
Swift,  in  one  of  his  letters  to  Pope,  says,  '  I  intend  to 
come  over,  that  we  may  meet  once  more  ;  and  when 
we  must  part,  it  is  what  happens  to  all  human  beings." 
BosAVELL.  "  The  hope  that  we  shall  see  our  departed 
friends  again  must  support  the  mind."  Johnson. 
"  Why  yes,  Sir."^  Boswell.  "  There  is  a  strange 
unwillingness  to  part  with  life,  independent  of  serious 
fears  as  to  futurity.     A  reverend  friend  of  ours  (nam- 

'  [See  on  the  sam^  subject,  voL  ii.  p.  18.    M.] 


30  THE    LIFE    OF 

1778.  ing  him)  tells  me,  that  he  feels  an  uneasiness  at  the 
^^J^  thoughts  of  leaving  his  house,  his  study,  his  books." 
69.  Johnson.  "This  is  foolish  in  *****.  A  man  need 
not  be  uneasy  on  these  grounds  ;  for,  as  he  will  retain 
his  consciousness,  he  may  say  with  the  philosopher. 
Omnia  mea  mecum  porto"  Boswell.  "  True,  Sir  : 
we  may  carry  our  books  in  our  heads  ;  but  still  there 
is  something  painful  in  the  thought  of  leaving  for  ever 
what  has  given  us  pleasure.  1  remember,  many  years 
ago,  when  my  imagination  was  warm,  and  I  happened 
to  be  in  a  melancholy  mood,  it  distressed  me  to  think 
of  going  into  a  state  of  being  in  which  Shakspeare^s 
poetry  did  not  exist.  A  lady  whom  I  then  much  ad- 
mired, a  very  amiable  woman,  humoured  my  fancy, 
and  relieved  me  by  saying,  '  The  first  thing  you  will 
meet  in  the  other  world,  will  be  an  elegant  copy  of 
Shakspeare's  works  presented  to  you."  Dr.  Johnson 
smiled  benignantly  at  this,  and  did  not  appear  to  dis- 
approve of  the  notion. 

We  went  to  St.  Clement's  church  again  in  the  after- 
noon, and  then  returned  and  drank  tea  and  coflee  in 
Mrs.  Williams's  room  ;  Mrs.  Desmoulins  doing  the 
honours  of  the  tea-table.  I  observed  that  he  would 
not  even  look  at  a  proof-sheet  of  his  "  Life  of  Waller" 
on  Good-Friday. 

Mr.  Allen,  the  printer,  brought  a  book  on  agricul- 
ture, which  was  printed,  and  was  soon  to  be  published. 
It  was  a  very  strange  performance,  the  authour  having 
mixed  in  it  his  own  thoughts  upon  various  topicks, 
along  with  his  remarks  on  ploughing,  sowing,  and 
other  farming  operations.  He  seemed  to  be  an  absurd 
profane  fellow,  and  had  introduced  in  his  book  many 
sneers  at  religion,  with  equal  ignorance  and  conceit. 
Dr.  Johnson  permitted  me  to  read  some  passages  aloud. 
One  was,  that  he  resolved  to  work  on  Sunday,  and  did 
work,  but  he  owned  he  felt  some  weak  compunction  ; 
and  he  had  this  very  curious  reflection  : — "  I  was  born 
in  the  wilds  of  Christianity,  and  the  briars  and  thorns 
still  hang  about  me."  Dr.  Johnson  could  not  help 
laughing  at  this  ridiculous  image,  yet  was  very  angry 
at  the  fellow's  impiety.     "  However,  (said  he,)  the 


DR.    JOHNSON.  31 

Reviewers  will  make  him  hang  himself."     He,  how-  i778. 
ever,  observed,  "  that  formerly  there  might  have  been  ^^ 
a  dispensation  obtained  for  working  on  Sunday  in  the    69. 
time  of  harvest."     Indeed  in  ritual  observances,  were 
all  the  ministers  of  religion  what  they  should  be,  and 
what  many  of  them  are,  such  a  power  might  be  wisely 
and  safely  lodged  with  the  Church. 

On  Saturday,  April  14,  I  drank  tea  with  him.  He 
praised  the  late  Mr.  Duncombe, '  of  Canterbury,  as  a 
pleasing  man.  "  He  used  to  come  to  me  ;  I  did  not 
seek  much  after  him.  Indeed  I  never  sought  much 
after  any  body."  Boswell.  "  Lord  Orrery,  I  sup- 
pose." Johnson.  "  No,  Sir  ;  I  never  went  to  him  but 
when  he  sent  for  me."  Boswell.  "  Richardson  V* 
Johnson.  "Yes,  Sir.  But  I  sought  after  George  Psal- 
manazar  the  most.  I  used  to  go  and  sit  with  him  at 
an  alehouse  in  the  city." 

I  am  happy  to  mention  another  instance  which  I 
discovered  of  his  seeking  after  a  man  of  merit.  Soon 
after  the  Honourable  Daines  Barrington  had  published 
his  excellent  "  Observations  on  the  Statutes,"^  John- 
son waited  on  that  worthy  and  learned  gentleman  ;  and, 
having  told  him  his  name,  courteously  said,  "  I  have 
read  your  book.  Sir,  with  great  pleasure,  and  wish  to 
be  better  known  to  you."  Thus  began  an  acquaint- 
ance, which  was  continued  with  mutual  regard  as  long 
as  Johnson  lived. 

Talking  of  a  recent  seditious  delinquent,  he  said, 
"  They  should  set  him  in  the  pillory,  that  he  may  be 
punished  in  a  way  that  would  disgrace  him."  I  ob- 
served, that  the  pillory  does  not  always  disgrace.  And 
I  mentioned  an  instance  of  a  gentleman,  who  I  thought 
was  not  dishonoured  by  it.  Johnson.  "  Ay,  but  he 
was.  Sir.  He  could  not  mouth  and  strut  as  he  used  to 
do,  after  having  been  there.  People  are  not  willing  to 
ask  a  man  to  their  tables,  who  has  stood  in  the  pillory.^' 

'  [William  Duncombe,  Esq.  He  married  the  sister  of  John  Hughes,  the  poet ; 
was  the  author  of  two  tragedies,  and  other  ingenious  productions ;  and  died  Feb. 
26,  1769,  aged  79.     M.] 

^  [4to.  1766.  The  worthy  author  died  many  years  after  Jehnson,  March  13, 
180G,  aged  about  74.     M.l 


32  THE    LIFE    OF 

1778.  The  Gentleman  who  had  dined  with  us  at  Dr.  Per- 
^J^cy's^  came  in.  Johnson  attacked  the  Americans  with 
69.  intemperate  vehemence  of  abuse.  1  said  something  in 
their  favour ;  and  added,  that  I  was  always  sorry,  when 
he  talked  on  that  subject.  This,  it  seems,  exasperated 
him  ;  though  he  said  nothing  at  the  time.  The  cloud 
was  charged  with  sulphureous  vapour,  which  was  af- 
terwards to  burst  in  thunder. — We  talked  of  a  gentle- 
man who  was  running  out  his  fortune  in  London  ;  and 
I  said,  "  We  must  get  him  out  of  it.  All  his  friends 
must  quarrel  with  him,  and  that  will  soon  drive  him 
away."  Johnson.  "  Nay,  Sir,  we'll  send  i/ou  to  him. 
If  your  company  does  not  drive  a  man  out  of  his  house, 
nothing  v;ill."  This  was  a  horrible  shock,  for  which 
there  was  no  visible  cause.  I  afterwards  asked  him, 
why  he  had  said  so  harsh  a  thing.  Johnson.  "  Because, 
Sir,  you  made  me  angry  about  the  Americans.''  Bos- 
well.  "  But  why  did  you  not  take  your  revenge  di- 
rectly ?"  Johnson,  (smiling)  "  Because,  Sir,  1  had 
nothing  ready.  A  man  cannot  strike  till  he  has  his 
weapons."  This  was  a  candid  and  pleasant  confession. 
He  shewed  me  to-night  his  drawing-room,  very 
genteelly  fitted  up  ;  and  said,  "  Mrs.  I'hrale  sneered, 
when  I  talked  of  my  having  asked  you  and  your  lady 
to  live  at  my  house.  1  was  obliged  to  tell  her,  that 
you  would  be  in  as  respectable  a  situation  in  my  house 
as  in  hers.  Sir,  the  insolence  of  wealth  will  creep 
out."  BoswELL.  "  She  has  a  little  both  of  the  inso- 
lence of  wealth,  and  the  conceit  of  parts."  Johnson. 
"  The  insolence  of  wealth  is  a  wretched  thing  ;  but 
the  conceit  of  parts  has  some  foundation.  To  be  sure, 
it  should  not  be.  But  who  is  without  it!"  Boswell. 
"  Yourself,  Sir."  Johnson.  "  Why  1  play  no  tricks  : 
I  lay  no  traps."  Boswell.  "  No,  Sir.  You  are  six 
feet  high,  and  you  only  do  not  stoop." 

We  talked  of  the  numbers  of  people  that  sometimes 
have  composed  the  household  of  great  families.  I 
mentioned  that  there  were  a  hundred  in  the  family  of 
the  present  Earl  of  Eglintoune's  father.     Dr.  Johnson 

3  See  p.  508,  of  Volume  II. 


DR.    JOHNSON.  33 

seeming  to  doubt  it,  I  began  to  enumerate.     "  Let  us  1773- 
see  :  my  Lord  and  my  Lady  two."     Johnson.  "  Nay,  ^J^ 
Sir,  if  you  are  to  count  by  twos,  you   may  be  long  6g. 
enough."     Boswell.  "  AVell,  but  now  I  add  two  sons 
and  seven  daughters,   and  a  servant  for  each,  that  will 
make  twenty  ;  so   we    have  the  fifth  part  already." 
Johnson.    "  Very  true.     You  get  at  twenty  pretty 
readily  ;  but  you  will  not  so  easily  get  further  on.  We 
grow  to  five  feet  pretty  readily  ;  but  it  is  not  so  easy 
to  grow  to  seven." 

On  Sunday,  April  19,  being  Easter  day,  after  the 
solemnities  of  the  festival  in  St.  Paul's  Church,  I  visit- 
ed him,  but  could  not  stay  to  dinner.  1  expressed  a 
wish  to  have  the  arguments  for  Christianity  always  in 
readiness,  that  my  religious  faith  might  be  as  firm  and 
clear  as  any  proposition  whatever,  so  that  1  need  not 
be  under  the  least  uneasiness,  when  it  should  be  at- 
tacked. Johnson.  "  Sir,  you  cannot  answer  all  ob- 
jections. You  have  demonstration  for  a  First  Cause  : 
you  see  he  must  be  good  as  well  as  powerful,  because 
there  is  nothing  to  make  him  otherwise,  and  goodness 
of  itself  is  preferable.  Yet  you  have  against  this,  what 
is  very  certain,  the  unhappiness  of  human  life.  This^ 
however,  gives  us  reason  to  hope  for  a  future  state  of 
compensation,  that  there  may  be  a  perfect  system.  But 
of  that  we  were  not  sure,  till  we  had  a  positive  revela- 
tion." 1  told  him,  that  his  "  Rasselas"  had  often  made 
me  unhappy  ;  for  it  represented  the  misery  of  human 
life  so  well,  and  so  convincingly  to  a  thinking  mind, 
that  if  at  any  time  the  impression  wore  off,  and  1  felt 
myself  easy,  I  began  to  suspect  some  delusion. 

On  Monday,  April  20,  I  found  him  at  home  in  the 
morning.  We  talked  of  a  gentleman  who  we  appre- 
hended was  gradually  involving  his  circumstances  by 
bad  management.  Johnson.  "  Wasting  a  fortune  is 
evaporation  by  a  thousand  imperceptible  means.  If  it 
were  a  stream,  they'd  stop  it.  You  must  speak  to  him. 
It  is  really  miserable.  Were  he  a  gamester,  it  could 
be  said  he  had  hopes  of  winning.  Were  he  a  bank- 
rupt in  trade,  he  might  have  grown  rich  ;  but  he  has 
neither  spirit  to  spend,  nor  resolution  to  spare.     He 

VOL.  II T.  5 


^4  THE    LIFE    OF 

^778.  does  not  spend  fast  enough  to  have  pleasure  from  it. 
^^^  He  has  the  crime  of  prodigality,  and  the  wretchedness 
09.  of  parsimony.  If  a  man  is  killed  in  a  duel,  he  is  killed 
as  many  a  one  has  been  killed  ;  but  it  is  a  sad  thing  for 
a  man  to  lie  down  and  die  ;  to  bleed  to  death,  because 
he  has  not  fortitude  enough  to  sear  the  wound,  or  even 
to  stitch  it  up."  I  cannot  but  pause  a  moment  to  ad- 
mire the  fecundity  of  fancy,  and  choice  of  language, 
which  in  this  instance,  and,  indeed,  on  almost  all  occa- 
sions, he  displayed.  It  was  well  observed  by  Dr.  Per- 
cy, now  Bishop  of  Dromore,  "  The  conversation  of 
Johnson  is  strong  and  clear,  and  may  be  compared  to 
an  antique  statue,  where  every  vein  and  muscle  is  dis- 
tinct and  bold.  Ordinary  conversation  resembles  an 
inferiour  cast." 

On  Saturday,  April  25,  I  dined  with  him  at  Sir  Josh- 
ua Reynolds's,  with  the  learned  Dr.  Musgrave,*  Coun- 
sellor Leland  of  Ireland,  son  to  the  historian,  Mrs.  Chol- 
mondele\',  and  some  more  ladies.  "  The  Project,"  a 
new  poem,  was  read  to  the  company  by  Dr.  Musgrave. 
Johnson.  "  Sir,  it  has  no  power.  Were  it  not  for  the 
well-known  names  with  which  it  is  filled,  it  would  be 
nothing  :  the  names  carry  the  poet,  not  the  poet  the 
names."  Musgrave.  "  A  temporary  poem  always  en- 
tertains us."  Johnson.  "  So  does  an  account  of  the 
criminals  hanged  yesterday  entertain  us." 

He  proceeded  ; — "  Demosthenes  Taylor,  as  he  was 
called,  (that  is,  the  Editor  of  Demosthenes)  was  tho 
most  silent  man,  the  merest  statue'of  a  man  that  I  have 
ever  seen.  I  once  dined  in  company  with  him,  and  all 
he  said  during  the  whole  time  was  no  more  than  Rich- 
ard. How  a  man  should  say  only  Richard,  it  is  not 
easy  to  imagine.  But  it  was  thus  :  Dr.  Douglas  was 
talking  of  Dr.  Zachary  Grey,  and  ascribing  to  him  some- 
thing that  was  written  by  Dr.  Richard  Grey.  So,  to 
correct  him,  Taylor  said,  (imitating  his  affected  senten- 
tious emphasis  and  nod)  '  Richard. ^"^ 

Mrs.  Cholmondeley,  in  a  high  flow  of  spirits,  exhib- 
ited some   lively  sallies  of  hyperbolical  compliment  to 

■'  [Samuel  Musgrave,  M.  D.  Editor  of  Euripides,  and  author  of  "  Dissertations 
on  tlie  Grecian  Mythology,"  &c.  published  in  1782,  after  his  death,  by  Mr.  Tyr- 
wliitt.     M.] 


DR.    JOHNSON.  35 

Johnson,  with  whom  she  had  been  long  acquainted,  1778. 
and  was  very  easy.     He  was  quick  in  catching  the  man-  ^[^^ 
ner  of  the  moment,  and  answered  her  somewhat  in  the   op. 
style  of  the  hero  of  a  romance,   "  Madam,  you  crown 
me  with  unfading  laurels." 

I  happened,  I  know  not  how,  to  say  that  a  pamphlet 
meant  a  prose  piece.  Johnson.  "  No,  Sir.  A  few 
sheets  of  poetry  unbound  are  a  pamphlet,'  as  much  as 
a  few  sheets  of  prose."  Musgrave.  "  A  pamphlet 
may  be  understood  to  mean  a  poetical  piece  in  West- 
minster-Hall, that  is,  in  formal  language ;  but  in  com- 
mon language  it  is  understood  to  mean  prose."  John- 
son, (and  here  was  one  of  the  many  instances  of  his 
knowing  clearly  and  telling  exactly  how  a  thing  is,) 
"  A  pamphlet  is  understood  in  common  language  to 
mean  prose,  only  from  this,  that  there  is  so  much  more 
prose  written  than  poetry  ;  as  when  we  say  a  hooli\  prose 
is  understood  for  the  same  reason,  though  a  book  may 
as  well  be  in  poetry  as  in  prose.  We  understand  what 
is  most  general,  and  we  name  what  is  less  frequent." 

We  talked  of  a  lady's  verses  on  Ireland.  Miss  Rey- 
nolds. "  Have  you  seen  them.  Sir  ?"  Johnson.  "No, 
Madam,  I  have  seen  a  translation  from  Horace,  by  one 
of  her  daughters.  She  shewed  it  me."  Miss  Rey- 
nolds. "  And  how  was  it,  Sir?"  Johnson.  •'  Why, 
very  well  for  a  young  Miss's  verses  ; — that  is  to  say, 
compared  with  excellence,  nothing  ;  but,  very  well, 
for  the  person  who  wrote  them.  1  am  vexed  at  being- 
shewn  verses  in  that  manner."  Miss  Reynolds.  "But 
if  they  should  be  good,  why  not  give  them  hearty 
praise  ?"  Johnson.  "  Why,  Aladam,  because  I  have 
not  then  got  the  better  of  my  bad  humour  from  having 
been  shewn  them.  You  must  consider.  Madam  ;  be- 
forehand they  may  be  bad,  as  well  as  good.  Nobody 
has  a  right  to  put  another  under  such  a  difficulty,  that 
he  must  either  hurt  the  person  by  telling  the  truth,  or 

^  {Dr.  Johnson  is  here  perfectly  correct,  and  is  supported  by  the  usage  of  preced- 
ing \vriters.  So  in  A-Iusarum  Delici;e,  a  collection  of  poems,  bvo.  1656,  (the 
writer  is  speaking  of  Suckling's  play  entitled  Aglaura,  printed  in  folio)  : 

"  This  great  voluminous  pamphlet  may  be  said, 

"  To  be  like  one,  that  hath  more  hair  than  head."     M.] 


36  THE    LIFE    OF 

1778.  hurt  himself  by  telling  what  is  not  true."  Hoswell. 
^tsLt  ''  ^  "^^"  often  shews  his  writings  to  people  of  eminence, 

69,  to  obtain  from  them,  either  from  their  good-nature,  or 
from  their  not  being  able  to  tell  the  truth  firmly,  a  com- 
mendation, of  which  he  may  afterwards  avail  himself." 
Johnson.  "  A  ery  true,  Sir.  Therefore  the  man,  who 
is  asked  by  an  authour,  what  he  thinks  of  his  work,  is 
put  to  the  torture,  and  is  not  obliged  to  speak  the  truth  : 
so  that  what  he  says  is  not  considered  as  his  opinion  ; 
yet  he  has  said  it,  and  cannot  retract  it ;  and  this  authour 
when  mankind  are  hunting  him  with  a  canister  at  his 
tail,  can  say,  '  I  would  not  have  published,  had  not 
Johnson,  or  Reynolds,  or  Musgrave,  or  some  other  good 
judge  commended  the  work.  Yet  1  consider  it  as  a 
very  difficult  question  in  conscience,  whether  one  should 
advise  a  man  not  to  publish  a  work,  if  profit  be  his  ob- 
ject ;  for  the  man  may  say,  '  Had  it  not  been  for  you, 
1  should  have  had  the  money.*  Now  you  cannot  be 
sure  ;  for  you  have  only  your  own  opinion,  and  the  pub- 
lick  may  think  very  differently."  Sir  Joshua  Rey- 
nolds. "You  must  upon  such  an  occasion  have  two 
judgements  ;  one  as  to  the  real  value  of  the  work,  the 
other  as  to  what  may  please  the  general  taste  at  the 
time."  Johnson.  "  But  you  can  be  sw^e  of  neither  ; 
and  therefore  I  should  scruple  much  to  give  a  suppres- 
sive vote.  Both  Goldsmith's  comedies  were  once  re- 
fused;  his  first  by  Garrick,  his  second  by  Colman,  who 
was  prevailed  on  at  last  b}'  much  solicitation,  nay,  a 
kind  of  force,  to  bring  it  on.  His  *  Vicar  of  Wakefield* 
I  myself  did  not  think  would  have  had  much  success. 
It  was  written  and  sold  to  a  bookseller ;  before  his 
'  Traveller  ;'  but  published  after  ;  so  little  expectation 
had  the  bookseller  from  it.  Had  it  been  sold  after  the 
'  Traveller,'  he  might  have  had  twice  as  much  money 
for  it,  though  sixty  guineas  was  no  mean  price.  The 
bookseller  had  the  advantage  of  Goldsmith's  reputation 
from  'The  Traveller'  in  the  sale,  though  Goldsmith 
had  it  not  in  selling  the  copy."  Sir  Joshua  Reynolds. 
"  The  Beggar's  Opera  affords  a  proof  how  strangely 
people  will  differ  in  opinion  about  a  literary  perform- 
aoce,     Burke  thinks  it  has  no  merit."     Johnson.  "  It 


DR.   JOHNSON.  37 

was  refused  by  one  of  the  houses  ;  but  I  should  have  •778- 
thought  it  would  succeed,  not  from  any  great  excellence  JJJ^ 
in  the  writing,   but  from  the  novelty,   and  the  general    69. 
spirit  and  gaiety  of  the  piece,  which  keeps  the  audience 
always  attentive,  and  dismisses  them  in  good  humour." 

We  went  to  the  drawing-room,  where  was  a  consid- 
erable increase  of  company.  Several  of  us  got  round 
Dr.  Johnson,  and  complained  that  he  would  not  giv^e 
us  an  exact  catalogue  of  his  works,  that  there  might  be 
a  complete  edition.  He  smiled,  and  evaded  our  en- 
treaties. That  he  intended  to  do  it,  1  have  no  doubt, 
because  I  have  heard  him  say  so  ;  and  I  have  in  my 
possession  an  imperfect  list,  fairly  written  out,  which 
he  entitles  Historia  Studiorum.  I  once  got  from  one 
of  his  friends  a  list,  which  there  was  pretty  good  reason 
to  suppose  was  accurate,  for  it  was  written  down  in  his 
presence  by  this  friend,  who  enumerated  each  article 
aloud,  and  had  some  of  them  mentioned  to  him  by  Mr, 
Levet,  in  concert  with  whom  it  was  made  out  ;  and 
Johnson,  who  heard  all  this,  did  not  contradict  it.  But 
when  I  shewed  a  copy  of  this  list  to  him,  and  mention- 
ed the  evidence  for  its  exactness,  he  laughed  and  said, 
"  I  was  willing  to  let  them  go  on  as  they  pleased,  and 
never  interfered."  Upon  which  I  read  it  to  him,  article 
by  article,  and  got  him  positively  to  own  or  refuse  ;  and 
then,  having  obtained  certainty  so  far,  I  got  some  other 
articles  confirmed  by  him  directly,  and  afterwards,  from 
time  to  time,  made  additions  under  his  sanction. 

His  friend,  Edward  Cave,  having  been  mentioned, 
he  told  us,  "  Cave  used  to  sell  ten  thousand  of  '  The 
Gentleman's  Magazine  -'  yet  such  was  then  his  minute 
attention  and  anxiety  that  the  sale  should  not  suffer 
the  smallest  decrease,  that  he  would  name  a  particular 
person  who  he  heard  had  talked  of  leaving  off  the 
Magazine,  and  would  say,  '  Let  us  have  something 
good  next  month." 

It  was  observed,  that  avarice  was  inherent  in  some 
dispositions.  Johnson.  "  No  man  was  born  a  miser, 
because  no  man  was  born  to  possession.  Every  man 
is  born  cupidus — desirous  of  getting  ;  but  not  avarus^ — 
desirous  of  keeping."     Boswell.  "  I  have  heard  old 


38  THE    LIFE    OP 

1778.  Mr.  Sheridan  maintain,  with  much  ingenuity,  that  a 
^^  complete  miser  is  a  happy  man  ;  a  miser  who  gives 
69.  himself  wholly  to  the  one  passion  of  saving."  John- 
son. "  That  is  flying  in  the  face  of  all  the  world,  who 
have  called  an  avaricious  man  a  miser,  because  he  is 
miserable.  No,  Sir  ;  a  man  who  both  spends  and  saves 
money  is  the  happiest  man,  because  he  has  both  en- 
joyments." 

The  conversation  having  turned  on  Bon-Mots,  he 
quoted,  from  one  of  the  Ana,  an  exquisite  instance  of 
flattery  in  a  maid  of  honour  in  France,  who  being 
asked  by  the  Queen  what  o'clock  it  was,  answered, 
*'  What  your  Majesty  pleases."  He  admitted  that 
Mr.  Burke's  classical  pun  upon  Mr.  Wilkes's  being 
carried  on  the  shoulders  of  the  mob, 

-numerisque  Jertur 


"  Lege  soiuius,' 

was  admirable  ;  and  though  he  was  strangely  unwill- 
ing to  allow  to  that  extraordinary  man  the  talent  of 
wit,*5  he  also  laughed  with  approbation  at  another  of 
his  playful  conceits  ;  which  was,  that  "  Horace  has  in 
one  line  given  a  description  of  a  good  desirable  manour  : 

'  £st  modus  in  rebus,  simt  certi  denique  fines  ;'^ 

that  is  to  say,  a  modus  as  to  the  tithes,   and  certain 
fines. ^^ 

He  observed,  "  A  man  cannot  with  propriety  speak 
of  himself,  except  he  relates  siiti pie  facts  ;  as,  '1  was 
at  Richmond  :'  or  what  depends  on  mensuration  ;  as, 
'  I  am  six  feet  high.'     He  is  sure  he  has  been  at  Rich- 

'  See  tliis  question  fully  investigated  in  tlie  Notes  upon  my  "  Journal  of  a  Tour 
to  the  Hebrides,"  edit.  3,  p.  2\,et  seq.  And  here,  as  a  lawyer  mindful  of  the  max- 
im Suum  cuiqtie  iribiiito,  1  cannot  forbear  to  mention,  that  the  additional  Note  begin- 
ning with  "  I  find  since  the  former  edition,"  is  not  mine,  but  was  obhgingly  fur- 
nished by  Mr.  Malone,  who  was  so  kind  as  to  superintend  the  press  while  I  was 
in  Scotland,  and  the  first  part  of  the  second  edition  was  printing.  He  would  not 
allow  me  to  ascribe  it  to  its  proper  authour  ;  but,  as  it  is  exquisitely  acute  and  el- 
egant, I  take  this  opportunity,  without  his  knowledge,  to  do  him  justice. 

"  [This,  as  both  Mr.  Bindley  and  Dr.  Kearney  have  observed  to  me,  is  the  motto 
to  "  An  Enquiry  into  Customary  Estates  and  Tenant's  Rights,  &c. — with  some 
considerations  for  restraining  excessive  Jines."  By  Everard  Fleetwood,  Esq.  8vo. 
1731.  But  it  is,  probably,  a  mere  coincidence.  Mr.  Burke  perhaps  never  saw 
that  pamphlet.    M.] 


DR.   JOHNSON.  39 

mond  ;  he  is  sure  he  is  six  feet  high  :  but  he  cannot  1778. 
be  sure  he  is  wise,  or  that  he  has  any  other  excellence.  ]e^ 
Then,  all  censure  of  a  man's  self  is  oblique  praise.     It    &g.' 
is  in  order  to  shew  how  much  he  can  spare.     It  has  ail 
the  invidiousness  of  self-praise,  and  all  the  reproach  of 
falsehood.^'     Boswell.    "  Sometimes  it  may  proceed 
from  a  man's  strong  consciousness  of  his  faults  being 
observed.     He  knows  that  others  would  throw  him 
down,  and  therefore  he  had  better  lie  down  softly  of  his 
own  accord." 

On  Tuesday,  April  28,  he  was  engaged  to  dine  at 
General  Paoli's,  where,  as  I  have  already  observed,  I 
was  still  entertained  in  elegant  hospitality,  and  with  all 
the  ease  and  comfort  of  a  home.  I  called  on  him,  and 
accompanied  him  in  a  hackney-coach.  We  stopped 
first  at  the  bottom  of  Hedge-lane,  into  which  he  went 
to  leave  a  letter,  "  with  good  news  for  a  poor  man  in 
distress,"  as  he  told  me.  1  did  not  question  him  par- 
ticularly as  to  this.  He  himself  often  resembled  Lady 
Bolingbroke's  lively  description  of  Pope  :  that  "  he 
was  un  politique  aux  choux  et  uiix  raves.^^  He  would 
say,  "  I  dine  to-day  in  Grosvenor-square  ;"  this  might 
be  with  a  Duke  ;  or,  perhaps,  "  I  dine  to-day  at  the 
other  end  of  the  town  :"  or,  "  A  gentleman  of  great 
eminence  called  on  me  yesterday." — He  loved  thus  to 
keep  things  floating  in  conjecture  :  Omne  ig  not  urn  pro 
magnifico  est.  I  believe  1  ventured  to  dissipate  the 
cloud,  to  unveil  the  mystery,  more  freely  and  frequently 
than  any  of  his  friends.  We  stopped  again  at  Wirg- 
man's,  the  well-known  toy-shop^  in  St.  James's-Street, 
at  the  corner  of  St.  James's-Palace,  to  which  he  had 
been  directed,  but  not  clearly,  for  he  searched  about 
some  time,  and  could  not  find  it  at  first  ;  and  said, 
"  To  direct  one  only  to  a  corner  shop  is  toifin<^  with 
one."  1  suppose  he  meant  this  as  a  play  upon  the 
word  toy  ;  it  was  the  first  time  that  I  knew  him  to 
stoop  to  such  sport.  After  he  had  been  some  time  in 
the  shop,  he  sent  for  me  to  come  out  of  the  coach, 
and  help  him  to  choose  a  pair  of  silver  buckles,  as 
those  he  had  were  too  small.  Probably  this  alteration 
in  dress  had  been  suggested  by  Mrs.  Thraie,  by  asscK 


40  THE    LIFE    OF 

1778.  dating  with  whom,  his  external  appearance  was  much 
^J^  improved.  He  got  better  cloaths  ;  and  the  dark  col- 
69.  our,  from  which  he  never  deviated,  was  enhvened  by 
metal  buttons.  His  wigs,  too,  were  much  better  ;  and 
during  their  travels  in  France,  he  was  furnished  with  a 
Paris-made  wig,  of  handsome  construction.  This 
choosing  of  silver  buckles  was  a  negociation  :  "  Sir, 
(said  he,)  I  will  not  have  the  ridiculous  large  ones  now 
in  fashion  ;  and  1  will  give  no  more  than  a  guinea  for 
a  pair."  Such  were  the  princ'/ples  of  the  business  ; 
and,  after  some  examination,  he  was  fitted.  As  we 
drove  along,  I  found  him  in  a  talking  humour,  of  which 
I  availed  myself.  Boswell.  "  1  was  this  morning  in 
Ridley's  shop.  Sir  ;  and  was  told,  that  the  collection 
called  '  tfo/^y«60?2m««' has  sold  very  much."  Johnson. 
"  Yet  the  '  Journey  to  the  Hebrides,  has  not  had  a 
great  sale."*  Boswell.  "  That  is  strange."  Johnsox. 
"  Yes,  Sir  ;  for  in  that  book  1  have  told  the  world  a 
great  deal  that  they  did  not  know  before." 

Boswell.  "  I  drank  chocolate,  Sir,  this  morning 
with  Mr.  Eld  ;  and,  to  my  no  small  surprize,  found  him 
to  be  a  Staffordshire  W/iig^  a  being  which  1  did  not 
believe  had  existed."  Johnson.  "  Sir,  there  are  ras- 
cals in  all  countries."  Boswell.  "  Eld  said,  a  Tory 
was  a  creature  generated  between  a  non-juring  parson 
and  one's  grandmother."  Johnson.  "  And  I  have  al- 
ways said,  the  first  Whig  was  the  Devil."  Boswell. 
"  He  certainly  was,  Sir.  The  Devil  was  impatient  of 
subordination  ;  he  was  the  first  who  resisted  power  : 

"  Better  to  reign  in  Hell,  than  serve  in  Heaven." 

At  General  Paoli's  were  Sir  Joshua  Reynolds,  Mr. 
I^ngton,  Marchese  Gherardi  of  Lombardy,  and  Mr. 
John  Spottiswoode  the  younger,  of  Spottiswoode,''  the 

^  Here  he  either  was  mistaken,  or  had  a  different  notion  of  an  extensive  sale 
from  what  is  generally  entertained  :  for  the  fact  is,  that  four  thousand  copies  ot 
that  excellent  work  were  sold  very  quickly.  A  new  edition  has  been  printed 
since  his  death,  besides  that  in  the  collection  of  his  works. 

[Another  edition  has  been  printed  since  Mr.  Boswell  wrote  the  above,  besides 
repeated  editions  in  the  general  collection  of  his  works  during  the  last  ten  years.  M.] 

In  the  phraseology  of  Scotland,  1  should  have  said.  "  Mr.  John  Spottiswoode 
the  younger,  of  that  ili."     Johnson  knew  that  sense  of  the  word  very  well,  and  ha> 


DR.   JOHNSON.  41 

solicitor.     At  this  time  fears  of  an  invasion  were  circu*  ^778. 
lated  ;  to  obviate  which,   Mr.  Spottiswoode  observed,  ^Q^^ 
that  Mr.   Fraser  the  engineer,  who  had  lately  come   gg. 
from  Dunkirk,  said,  that  tlie  French  had  the  same  fears 
of  us.     Johnson.  "  It  is  thus  that  mutual  cowardice 
keeps  us  in  peace.     Were  one  half  of  mankind  brave, 
and  one  half  cowards,  the  brave  would  be  always  beat- 
ing the  cowards.     Were  all  brave,  they  would  lead  a 
very   uneasy  life  ;  all  would  be  continually  fighting : 
but  being  all  cowards,  we  go  on  very  well.'' 

We  talked  of  drinking  wine.     Johnson.  "  I  require 
wine,  only  when  1  am  alone.     I  have  then  often  wish- 
ed  for   it,   and   often    taken     it."       Spottiswoode. 
"  What,   by  way  of  a  companion,  Sir  ]"     Johnson. 
"  To  get  rid  of  myself,  to  send  myself  away.     Wine 
gives  great  pleasure  ;  and  every  pleasure  is  of  itself  a 
good.    It  is  a  good,  unless  counterbalanced  by  evil.    A 
man  may  have  a  strong  reason  not  to  drink  wine  ;  and 
that   may   be  greater  than  the  pleasure.     Wine  makes 
a  man   better  pleased  with  himself.     1  do  not  say  that 
it  makes  him  more  pleasing  to  others.     Sometimes  it 
does.      But  the  danger  is,   that  while  a  man  grows 
better  pleased   with   himself,   he   may  be  growing  less 
pleasing  to  others.'      Wine  gives  a  man  nothing.     It 
neither  gives  him  knowledge  nor  wit;  it  only  animates 
a  man,  and  enables  him  to  bring  out  what  a  dread  of 
the  company  has   repressed.     It  only   puts  in  motion 
what  has  been   locked   up  in  frost.     But  this  may  be 
good,  or  it  may  be  bad.''     Spottiswoode.  "  So,  Sir, 
wine  is  a  key  which  opens  a  box  ;  but  this  box  may 
be  either  full  or  empty  ]"     Johnson.  "  Nay,  Sir,  con- 
versation is  the  key  :  wine  is  a  pick-lock,  which  forces 
open  the  box,  and  injures  it.    A  man  should  cultivate  his 
mind  so  as  to  have  that  confidence  and  readiness  with- 

thus  explained  it  in  his  Dictionary,  -jecf  Ilk — ^  It  also  signifies '  the  same ;'  as  Mack- 
intosh of  that  ilk,  denotes  a  gentleman  whose  surname  and  tlie  title  of  his  estate  are 
the  same." 

'  It  is  observed  in  Waller's  Life,  in  the  Biografhia  Britannica,  that  he  drank  only 
water  ;  and  that  while  he  sat  in  a  company  who  were  drinking  wine,  "  he  had 
the  dexterity  to  accommodate  his  discourse  to  the  pitch  of  theirs  as  it  sunt."  If 
excess  in  drinking  be  meant,  the  remark  is  acutely  just.  But  surely,  a  moderate 
use  of  wine  gives  a  gaiety  of  spirits  wliich  water-drinkers  know  not. 

VOL.   III.  6 


42  THE    LIFE    OF 

1778.  out  wine,  which  wine  gives."  Boswell.  "  The  great 
^^  difficulty  of  resisting  wine  is  from  benevolence.  For 
69.  instance,  a  good  worthy  man  asks  you  to  taste  his  wine, 
which  he  has  had  twenty  years  in  his  cellar."  John- 
son. "  Sir,  all  this  notion  about  benevolence  arises 
from  a  man's  imagining  himself  to  be  of  more  import- 
ance to  others,  than  he  really  is.  They  don't  care  a 
farthing  whether  he  drinks  wine  or  not."  Sir  Joshua 
Reynolds.  "  Yes,  they  do  for  the  time."  Johnson. 
"  For  the  time  ! — If  they  care  this  minute,  they  forget 
it  the  next.  And  as  for  the  good  worthy  man  ;  how 
do  you  know  he  is  good  and  worthy  I  No  good  and 
worthy  man  will  insist  upon  another  man's  drinking 
wine.  As  to  the  wine  twenty  years  in  the  cellar, — of 
ten  men,  three  say  this,  merely  because  they  must  say 
something  ;  three  are  telling  a  lie,  when  they  say  they 
have  had  the  wine  twenty  years  ; — three  would  rather 
save  the  wine  ; — one,  perhaps,  cares.  1  allow  it  is 
something  to  please  one's  company  ;  and  people  are 
"  always  pleased  with  those  who  partake  pleasure  with 
them.  But  after  a  man  has  brought  himself  to  relin- 
quish the  great  personal  pleasure  which  arises  from 
drinking  wine,  any  other  consideration  is  a  trifle.  To 
please  others  by  drinking  wine,  is  something  only,  if 
there  be  nothing  against  it.  1  should,  however,  be 
sorry  to  offend  worthy  men  : 

"  Curst  be  the  verse,  how  well  so  e'er  it  flow, 
"  That  tends  to  make  one  worthy  man  my  foe." 

Boswell.  "  Curst  be  the  spring,  the  zcafe?\^*  John- 
son. "  But  let  us  consider  what  a  sad  thing  it  would 
be,  if  we  were  obliged  to  drink  or  do  any  thing  else 
that  may  happen  to  be  agreeable  to  the  company  where 
we  are."  Langton.  "  By  the  same  rule  you  must 
join  with  a  gang  of  cut-purses."  Johnson.  "  Yes, 
Sir  :  but  yet  we  must  do  justice  to  wine  ;  we  must 
allow  it  the  power  it  possesses.  To  make  a  man  pleas- 
ed with  himself,  let  me  tell  you,  is  doing  a  very  great 


thing 


Si  pat  rite  I'o/umus,  si  Nobis  vivere 


DR.    JOHNSON.  43 

1  was  at  this  time  myself  a  water-drinker,  upon  trial,  '778- 
by  Johnson's  recommendation.  Johnson.  "  Boswell  ^(^ 
is  a  bolder  combatant  than  Sir  Joshua  :  he  argues  for  69. 
wine  without  the  help  of  wine  ;  but  Sir  Joshua  with 
it.^'  Sir  Joshua  Reynolds.  "  But  to  please  one's 
company  is  a  strong  motive."  Johnson,  (who,  from 
drinking  only  water,  supposed  every  body  who  drank 
wine  to  be  elevated,)  "  1  won't  argue  any  more  with 
you,  Sir.  You  are  too  far  gone."  Sir  Joshua.  "I 
should  have  thought  so  indeed,  Sir,  had  I  made  such  a 
speech  as  you  have  now  done."  Johnson,  (draw- 
ing himself  in,  and,  I  really  thought  blushing,)  "  Nay, 
don't  be  angry.  I  did  not  mean  to  offend  you."  Sir 
Joshua.  "  At  first  the  taste  of  wine  was  disagreeable 
to  me  ;  but  I  brought  myself  to  drink  it,  that  1  might 
be  like  other  people.  The  pleasure  of  drinking  wine  is 
so  connected  with  pleasing  your  company,  that  alto- 
gether there  is  something  of  social  goodness  in  it." 
Johnson.  "  Sir,  this  is  only  saying  the  same  thing  over 
again."  Sir  Joshua.  "  No,  this  is  new."  Johnson. 
"  You  put  it  in  new  words,  but  it  is  an  old  thought. 
This  is  one  of  the  disadvantages  of  wine,  it  makes  a 
man  mistake  words  for  thoughts."  Boswell.  "  I 
think  it  is  a  new  thought  ;  at  least,  it  is  in  a  new  affi- 
tudeP  Johnson.  "  Nay,  Sir,  it  is  only  in  a  new  coat ; 
or  an  old  coat  with  a  new  facing.  (Then  laughing 
heartily)  It  is  the  old  dog  in  a  new  doublet. — An  ex- 
traordinary instance,  however,  may  occur  where  a  man's 
patron  will  do  nothing  for  him,  unless  he  will  drink :  ' 
there  may  be  a  good  reason  for  drinking." 

I  mentioned  a  nobleman,  who  I  believed  was  really 
uneasy,  if  his  company  would  not  drink  hard.  John- 
son. "  That  is  from  having  had  people  about  him  whom 
he  has  been  accustomed  to  command."  Boswell. 
"  Supposing  I  should  be  tete-a-t^te  with  him  at  table." 
Johnson.  "  Sir,  there  is  no  more  reason  for  your  drink- 
ing with  him^  than  his  being  sober  with  ijou.^^  Bos- 
well. "  Why  that  is  true  ;  for  it  would  do  him  less 
hurt  to  be  sober,  than  it  would  do  me  to  get  drunk." 
Johnson.  "  Yes,  Sir  ;  and  from  what  1  have  heard  of 
him,  one  would  not  wish  to  sacrifice  himself  to  such  a 


44  THE    LIFE    OF 

^  778.  man.  If  he  must  always  have  somebody  to  drink  with 
]^^  him,  he  should  buy  a  slave,  and  then  he  would  be  sure 
69.  to  have  it.  They  who  submit  to  drink  as  another 
pleases,  make  themselves  his  slaves."  Boswell.  "  But, 
Sir,  you  will  surely  make  allowance  for  the  duty  of 
hospitality.  A  gentleman  who  loves  drinking,  comes 
to  visit  me."  Johnson.  "  Sir,  a  man  knows  whom  he 
visits  ;  he  comes  to  the  table  of  a  sober  man."  Bos- 
well. "  But,  Sir,  you  and  I  should  not  have  been  so 
well  received  in  the  Highlands  and  Hebrides,  if  1  had 
not  drunk  with  our  worthy  friends.  Had  1  drunk 
water  only  as  you  did,  they  would  not  have  been  so 
cordial."  Johnson.  "  Sir  William  Temple  mentions, 
that  in  his  travels  through  the  Netherlands  he  had  two 
or  three  gentlemen  with  him  ;  and  when  a  bumper 
was  necessary,  he  put  it  on  them.  Were  I  to  travel 
again  through  the  islands,  1  would  have  Sir  Joshua 
with  me  to  take  the  bumpers."  Boswell.  "  But,  Sir, 
let  me  put  a  case.  Suppose  Sir  Joshua  should  take  a 
jaunt  into  Scotland  ;  he  does  me  the  honour  to  pay 
me  a  visit  at  my  house  in  the  country  ;  1  am  overjoy- 
ed at  seeing  him  ;  we  are  quite  by  ourselves  ;  shall  I 
unsociably  and  churlishly  let  him  sit  drinking  by  him- 
self? No,  no,  my  dear  Sir  Joshua,  you  shall  not  be 
treated  so,  I  wii/  take  a  bottle  with  you." 

The  celebrated  Mrs.  Rudd  being  mentioned.  John- 
son. "  Fifteen  years  ago  1  should  have  gone  to  see 
her."  Spottiswoode.  "  Because  she  was  fifteen  years 
younger  ?"  Johnson.  "  No,  Sir  ;  but  now  they  have 
a  trick  of  putting  every  thing  into  the  news-papers." 

He  begged  of  General  Faoli  to  repeat  one  of  the 
introductory  stanzas  of  the  first  book  of  Tasso's  "  Je- 
rusalem," which  he  did,  and  then  Johnson  found  fault 
with  the  simile  of  sweetening  the  edges  of  a  cup  for  a 
child,  being  transferred  from  Lucretius  into  an  epick 
poem.  The  General  said  he  did  not  imagine  Homer's 
poetry  was  so  ancient  as  is  supposed,  because  he  as- 
cribes to  a  Greek  colony  circumstances  of  refinement 
not  found  in  Greece  itself  at  a  later  period,  when  Thu- 
cydides  wrote.  Johnson.  "  I  recollect  but  one  pas- 
sage quoted  by  Thucydides  from  Homer,  which  is  not 


DR.   JOHNSON.  45 

to  be  found  in  our  copies  of  Homer's  works  ;  I  am  for  i778. 
the  antiquity  of  Homer,  and  think  that  a  Grecian  col-  ^"^ 
ony  by  being  nearer  Persia  might  be  more  refined  than   69. 
the  mother  country." 

On  Wednesday,  April  29,  I  dined  with  him  at  Mr. 
Allan  Ramsay's,  where  were  Lord  Binning,  Dr.  Rob- 
ertson the  historian,  Sir  Joshua  Reynolds,  and  the 
Honourable  Mrs.  Boscawen,  widow  of  the  Admiral, 
and  mother  of  the  present  Viscount  Falmouth  ;  of 
whom,  if  it  be  not  presumptuous  in  me  to  praise  her, 
I  would  say,  that  her  manners  are  the  most  agreeable, 
and  her  conversation  the  best,  of  any  lady  with  whom 
I  ever  had  the  happiness  to  be  acquainted.  Before 
Johnson  came  we  talked  a  good  deal  of  him  ;  Ramsay 
said,  he  had  always  found  him  a  very  polite  man,  and 
that  he  treated  him  with  great  respect,  which  he  did 
very  sincerely.  I  said,  I  worshipped  him.  Robert- 
son. "  But  some  of  you  spoil  him  :  you  should  not 
worship  him  ;  you  should  worship  no  man."  Bos- 
well.  "  1  cannot  help  worshipping  him,  he  is  so  much 
superiour  to  other  men."  Robertson.  "  In  criticism, 
and  in  wit  and  conversation,  he  is  no  doubt  very  ex- 
cellent ;  but  in  other  respects  he  is  not  above  other 
men  ;  he  will  believe  any  thing,  and  will  strenuously 
defend  the  most  minute  circumstance  connected  with 
the  Church  of  England."  Boswell.  "  Believe  me, 
Doctor,  you  are  much  mistaken  as  to  this  ;  for  when 
you  talk  with  him  calmly  in  private,  he  is  very  liberal 
in  his  way  of  thijiking."  Robertson.  "  He  and  I 
have  been  always  very  gracious  ;  the  first  time  I  met 
him  was  one  evening  at  Strahan's,  when  he  had  just 
had  an  unlucky  altercation  with  Adam  Smith,  to  whom 
he  had  been  so  rough,  that  Strahan,  after  Smith  was 
gone,  had  remonstrated  with  him,  and  told  him  that  J 
was  coming  soon,  and  that  he  was  uneasy  to  think  that 
he  might  behave  in  the  same  manner  to  me.  '  No, 
no.  Sir,  (said  Johnson)  I  warrant  you  Robertson  and  1 
shall  do  very  well.'  Accordingly  he  was  gentle  and 
good-humoured  and  courteous  with  me,  the  whole 
evening ;  and  he  has  been  so  upon  every  occasion  that 
wp  havp.  met  since.     I  have  often  said,  (laughing)  that 


46  THE    LIFE    OF 

1778.  I  have  been  in  a  great  measure  indebted  to  Smith  for 
SaT  ^^y  §^^^  reception."     Boswell.    "  His  power  of  rea- 
69.  *  soning  is  very  strong,  and  he  has  a  pecuhar  art  of  draw- 
ing characters,  which  is  as  rare  as  good  portrait  paint- 
ing."    Sir  Joshua  Reynolds.    "  He  is  undoubtedly 
admirable  in  this ;  but,  in  order  to  mark  the  characters 
which  he  draws,  he  overcharges  them,  and  gives  people 
more  than  they  really  have,   whether  of  good  or  bad." 
No  sooner  did  he,  of  whom  we  had  been  thus  talk- 
ing so  easily,   arrive,  than   we   were  all  as  quiet  as  a 
school  upon  the  entrance  of  the  head-master  ;    and 
were  very  soon  sat  down  to  a  table  covered  with  such 
variety  of  good  things,  as  contributed  not  a  httle  to  dis- 
pose him  to  be  pleased. 

Ramsay.  "  I  am  old  enough  to  have  been  a  con- 
temporary of  Pope.  His  poetry  was  highly  admired 
in  his  life-time,  more  a  great  deal  than  after  his  death." 
Johnson.  "  Sir,  it  has  not  been  less  admired  since  his 
death  ;  no  authours  ever  had  so  much  fame  in  their 
own  life-time  as  Pope  and  Voltaire  ;  and  Pope's  poetry 
has  been  as  much  admired  since  his  death  as  during 
his  life  ;  it  has  only  not  been  as  much  talked  of,  but 
that  is  owing  to  its  being  now  more  distant,  and  people 
having  other  writings  to  talk  of.  Virgil  is  less  talked  of 
than  Pope,  and  Homer  is  less  talked  of  than  Virgil  ; 
but  they  are  not  less  admired.  We  must  read  what 
the  world  reads  at  the  moment.  It  has  been  maintain- 
ed that  this  superfetation,  this  teeming  of  the  press  in 
modern  times,  is  prejudicial  to  good  literature,  because 
it  obliges  us  to  read  so  much  of  what  is  of  inferiour 
value,  in  order  to  be  in  the  fashion  ;  so  that  better 
works  are  neglected  for  want  of  time,  because  a  man 
will  have  more  gratification  of  his  vanity  in  conversa- 
tion, from  having  read  modern  books,  than  from  having 
read  the  best  works  of  antiquity.  But  it  must  be  con- 
sidered, that  we  have  now  more  knowledge  generally 
diffused  ;  all  our  ladies  read  now,  which  is  a  great  ex- 
tension. Modern  writers  are  the  moons  of  literature  ; 
they  shine  with  reflected  light,  with  light  borrowed 
from  the  ancients.  Greece  appears  to  me  to  be  the 
fountain  of  knowled,2:e  ;  Rome  of  elegance.^'     Ram- 


r 


DR.   JOHNSON.  47 

SAY.  "  I  suppose  Homer's  '  Iliad'  to  be  a  collection  »778. 
of  pieces  which  had  been  written  before  his  time.     1  JJ^ 
should  like  to  see  a  translation  of  it  in  poetical  prose,   6(|.  ' 
like  the  book  of  Ruth  or  Job."     Robertson.  "  Would 
you,  Dr.  Johnson,  who  are  master  of  the  English  lan- 
guage,   but  try  your  hand  upon  a  part  of  it."     John- 
son. "  Sir,  you  could  not  read  it  without  the  pleasure 
of  verse."  ^ 

We  talked  of  antiquarian  researches.  "  Johnson. 
"  All  that  is  really  known  of  the  ancient  state  of  Britain 
is  contained  in  a  few  pages.  We  can  know  no  more 
than  what  the  old  writers  have  told  us  ;  yet  what  large 
books  have  we  upon  it,  the  whole  of  which,  excepting 
such  parts  as  are  taken  from  those  old  writers,  is  all  a 
dream,  such  as  Whi taker's  '  Manchester.'  I  have 
heard  Henry's  '  History  of  Britain'  well  spoken  of :  I 
am  told  it  is  carried  on  in  separate  divisions,  as  the 
civil,  the  military,  the  religious  history  ;  I  wish  much 
to  have  one  branch  well  done,  and  that  is  the  history 
of  manners,  of  common  life."  Robertson.  "Henry 
should  have  applied  his  attention  to  that  alone,  which 
is  enough  for  any  man  ;  and  he  might  have  found  a 
great  deal  scattered  in  various  books,  had  he  read  sole- 
ly with  that  view.  Henry  erred  in  not  selling  his  first 
volume  at  a  moderate  price  to  the  booksellers,  that 
they  might  have  pushed  him  on  till  he  had  got  reputation. 
I  sold  my  '  History  of  Scotland'  at  a  moderate  price, 
as  a  work  by  which  the  booksellers  might  either  gain 
or  not  ;  and  Cadell  has  told  me,  that  Millar  and  he 
have  got  six  thousand  pounds  by  it.  I  afterwards  re- 
ceived a  much  higher  price  for  my  writings.  An  au- 
thour  should  sell  his  first  work  for  what  the  booksellers 
will  give,  till  it  shall  appear  whether  he  is  an  authour 
of  merit,  or,  which  is  the  same  thing  as  to  purchase- 
money,  an  authour  who  pleases  the  publick." 

Dr.    Robertson  expatiated   on    the   character  of    a 
certain  nobleman  ;  that   he  was  one  of  the  strongest 

'  This  experiment  which  Madame  Dacier  made  in  vain,  has  since  been  tried  in 
our  own  language,  by  the  editor  of  "  Ossian,"  and  we  must  either  tliink  very  meanly 
of  his  abilities,  or  allow  that  Dr.  Johnson  was  in  the  right.  And  Mr.  Cowper,  a 
man  of  real  genius,  has  miserably  faUed  in  his  blank  verse  translation. 


48  THE    LIFE    OF 

1778.  minded  men  that  ever  lived  ;  that  he  would  sit  in 
^^^  company  quite  sluggish,  while  there  was  nothing  to 
6g,  call  forth  his  intellectual  vigour  ;  but  the  moment  that 
any  important  subject  was  started,  for  instance,  how 
this  country  is  to  be  defended  against  a  French  inva- 
sion, he  would  rouse  himself,  and  shew  his  extraordi- 
nary talents  with  the  most  powerful  ability  and  anima- 
tion. Johnson.  "  Yet  this  man  cut  his  own  throat. 
The  true  strong  and  sound  mind  is  the  mind  that  can 
embrace  equally  great  things  and  small.  Now  I  am 
told  the  King  of  Prussia  will  say  to  a  servant,  '  Bring 
me  a  bottle  of  such  a  wine,  which  came  in  such  a 
year  ;  it  lies  in  such  a  corner  of  the  cellars.'  1  would 
have  a  man  great  in  great  things,  and  elegant  in  little 
things."  He  said  to  me  afterwards,  when  we  were  by 
ourselves,  "  Robertson  was  in  a  mighty  romantick  hu- 
mour, he  talked  of  one  whom  he  did  not  know  ;  but  I 
downed  him  with  the  King  of  Prussia." — "  Yes,  Sir, 
(said  1,)  you  threw  a  botf/e  at  his  head." 

An  ingenious  gentleman  was  mentioned,  concerning 
whom  both  Robertson  and  Ramsay  agreed  that  he  had 
a  constant  firmness  of  mind  ;  for  after  a  laborious  day, 
and  amidst  a  multiplicity  of  cares  and  anxieties,  he 
would  sit  down  with  his  sisters  and  be  quite  cheerful 
and  good-humoured.  Such  a  disposition,  it  was  ob- 
served, was  a  happy  gift  of  nature.  Johnson.  "  I  do 
not  think  so  ;  a  man  has  from  nature  a  certain  portion 
of  mind  ;  the  use  he  makes  of  it  depends  upon  his 
own  free  will.  That  a  man  has  "always  the  same  firm- 
ness of  mind,  I  do  not  say  ;  because  every  man  feels 
his  mind  less  firm  at  one  time  than  another  ;  but  I 
think,  a  man's  being  in  a  good  or  bad  humour  depends 
upon  his  will." — 1,  however,  could  not  help  thinking 
that  a  man's  humour  is  often  uncontrollable  by  his 
will. 

Johnson  harangued  against  drinking  wine.  "  A 
man,  (said  he)  may  choose  whether  he  will  have  ab- 
stemiousness and  knowledge,  or  claret  and  ignorance." 
Dr.  Robertson,  (who  is  very  companionable,)  was  be- 
ginning to  dissent  as  to  the  proscription  of  claret. 
Johnson  :  (with  a  placid  smile.)  "  Nay,  Sir,  you  shall 


DR.   JOHNSON.  49 

not  differ  with  me  ;  as  I  have  said  that  the  man  is  ^778. 
most  perfect  who  takes  in  the  most  things,  I  am  for  j^J^ 
knowledge  and  claret."     Robertson  :  (holding  a  glass  6a. 
of  generous  claret  in  his  hand.)  "  Sir,  1  can  only  drink 
your  health."    Johnson.  "  Sir,  1  should  be  sorry  if 
you  should  be  ever  in  such  a  state  as  to  be  able  to  do 
nothing  more."     Robertson.    "  Dr.  Johnson,  allow 
me  to  say,  that  in  one  respect  I  have  the  advantage  of 
you  ;  when  you  were  in  Scotland  you  would  not  come 
to  hear  any  of  our  preachers,  whereas,  when  I  am  here, 
I  attend  your  publick  worship  without  scruple,  and  in- 
deed, with  great  satisfaction."     Johnson.  "  Why,  Sir, 
that  is  not  so  extraordinary  :  the  King  of  Siam  sent 
ambassadours  to  Louis  the  Fourteenth  ;  but  Louis  the 
Fourteenth  sent  none  to  the  King  of  Siam."^ 

Here  my  friend  for  once  discovered  a  want  of  knowl- 
edge or  forgetfulness  ;  for  Louis  the  Fourteenth  did 
send  an  embassy  to  the  King  of  Siam,*  and  the  Abbe 
Choisi,  who  was  employed  in  it,  published  an  account 
of  it  in  two  volumes. 

Next  day,  Thursday,  April  30,  I  found  him  at  home 
by  himself.  Johnson.  "  Well,  Sir,  Ramsay  gave  us  a 
splendid  dinner.  I  love  Ramsay.  You  will  not  find  a 
man  in  whose  conversation  there  is  more  instruction, 
more  information,  and  more  elegance,  than  in  Ram- 
say's." BoswELL.  "  What  1  admire  in  Ramsay,  is  his 
continuing  to  be  so  young."  Johnson.  "  Why,  yes, 
Sir,  it  is  to  be  admired.  1  value  myself  upon  this,  that 
there  is  nothing  of  the  old  man  in  my  conversation.  I 
am  now  sixty-eight,  and  I  have  no  more  of  it  than  at 
twenty-eight."  Boswell.  "  But,  Sir,  would  not  you 
wish  to  know  old  age  I  He  who  is  never  an  old  man, 
does  not  know  the  whole  of  human  life  ;,  for  old  age  is 
one  of  the  divisions  of  it."  Johnson.  "  Nay,  Sir,  what 
talk  is  this  ?"  Boswell.  "  I  mean,  Sir,  the  Sphinx's 
description  of  it ; — morning,  nogn,  and  night.     1  would 

'  Mrs.  Piozzi  confidently  mentions  this  as  having  passed  in  Scotland.  "  Anec- 
dotes," p.  62. 

■*  [The  Abbe  de  Choisi  was  sent  by  Louis  XIV.  on  an  embassy  to  the  King  of 
Siam  in  1683,  with  a  view,  it  has  been  said,  to  conrert  the  King  of  that  country 
to  Christianity.     M.] 

VOL.  III.  7 


60  THE    LIFE    OF 

1778.  know  night,  as  well  as  morning  and  noon/^  Johk- 
^^  SON.  "  What,  Sir,  would  you  know  what  it  is  to  feel 
6g.  the  evils  of  old  age  I  Would  you  have  the  gout  ?  Would 
you  have  decrepitude  ?" — Seeing  him  heated,  I  would 
not  argue  any  farther  ;  but  1  was  confident  that  I  was 
in  the  right.  I  would,  in  due  time,  be  a  Nestor,  an 
elder  of  the  people  ;  and  there  should  be  some  differ- 
ence between  the  conversation  of  twenty-eight  and  six- 
ty-eight.' A  grave  picture  should  not  be  gay.  There 
is  a  serene,  solemn,  placid  old  age.  Johnson.  "  Mrs. 
Thrale's  mother  said  of  me  what  flattered  me  much. 
A  clergyman  was  complaining  of  want  of  society  in  the 
country  where  he  lived  ;  and  said,  "  They  talk  of 
runis  ;"  (that  is,  young  cows.)*  '  Sir,  (said  Mrs.  Sal- 
usbury,)  Mr.  Johnson  would  learn  to  talk  of  runts  :' 
meaning  that  I  was  a  man  who  would  make  the  mosj; 
of  my  situation,  whatever  it  was."  He  added,  "  I 
think  myself  a  very  polite  man." 

On  Saturday,  May  2,  I  dined  with  him  at  Sir  Joshua 
Reynolds's,  where  there  was  a  very  large  company,  and 
a  great  deal  of  conversation  ;  but  owing  to  some  cir- 
cumstance which  I  cannot  now  recollect,  I  have  no 
record  of  any  part  of  it,  except  that  there  were  several 
people  there  by  no  means  of  the  Johnsonian  school  ; 
so  that  less  attention  was  paid  to  him  than  usual,  which 
put  him  out  of  humour  ;  and  upon  some  imaginary 
offence  from  me,  he  attacked  me  with  such  rudeness, 
that  I  was  vexed  and  angry,  because  it  gave  those  per- 
sons an  opportunity  of  enlarging  upon  his  supposed 
ferocity,  and  ill  treatment  of  his  best  friends.     I  was 

»  [Johnson  clearly  meant,  (what  the  authour  has  often  elsewhere  mentioned,) 
that  he  had  none  of  the  listlessness  of  old  age,  that  he  had  the  same  acti-uity  and  en- 
ergy of  mind  as  formerly  ;  not  that  a  man  of  sixty-eight  might  dance  in  a  publick 
assembly  with  as  much  propriety  as  he  could  at  twenty-eight.  His  conversation, 
being  the  product  of  much  various  knowledge,  great  acuteness,  and  extraordinary' 
vrit,  was  equally  well  suited  to  every  period  of  life  ;  and  as  in  his  youth  it  proba- 
bly did  not  exhibit  any  unbecoming  levity,  so  certainly  in  his  latter  years  it  was 
totally  free  from  the  garrulity  and  querulousness  of  old  age.     M.] 

'■  [Such  is  the  signification  of  this  word  in  Scotland,  and  it  should  seem  in  Wales. 
(See  Skinner  in  -j.)  But  the  heifers  of  Scotland  and  Wales,  when  brought  to  Eng- 
land, being  always  smaller  than  those  of  this  countiy,  the  word  runt  has  acquired 
a  secondary  sense,  and  generally  signifies  a  heifer  diminutive  in  size,  small  beyond 
the  ordinary  growth  of  that  animal  ;  and  in  this  sense  alone  the  word  is  acknowl- 
idged  by  Dr.  Johnson,  in  his  Dictionary.     M.] 


DR.    JOHNSON.  ,51 

SO  much  hurt,  and  had  my  pride  so  much  roused,  that  1778. 
I  kept  away  from  him  for  a  week  ;  and,  perhaps,  might  ^^^ 
have  kept  away  much   longer,  nay,  gone  to  Scotland   cp. 
without  seeing  him  again,  had  not  we  fortunately  met 
and   been   reconciled.      To  such  unhappy  chances  are 
human  friendships  liable. 

On  Friday,  May  8,  I  dined  with  him  at  Mr.  Lang- 
ton's.  I  was  reserved  and  silent,  which  I  suppose  he 
perceived,  and  might  recollect  the  cause.  After  din- 
ner, when  Mr.  Langton  was  called  out  of  the  room, 
and  we  were  by  ourselves,  he  drew  his  chair  near  to 
mine,  and  said,  in  a  tone  of  conciliating  courtesy. 
"  Well,  how  have  you  done  1"  Boswell.  "  Sir,  you 
have  made  me  very  uneasy  by  your  behaviour  to  me 
"when  we  were  last  at  Sir  Joshua  Reynolds's.  You 
know,  my  dear  Sir,  no  man  has  a  greater  respect  and 
affection  for  you,  or  would  sooner  go  to  the  end  of  the 
world  to  serve  you.  Now  to  treat  me  so — ."  He  in- 
sisted that  I  had  interrupted  him,  which  1  assured  him 
was  not  the  case  ;  and  proceeded — "  But  why  treat 
me  so  before  people  who  neither  love  you  nor  me  1" 
Johnson.  "  Well,  I  am  sorry  for  it.  I'll  make  it  up 
to  you  twenty  different  ways,  as  you  please."  Bos- 
well. "  I  said  to-day  to  Sir  Joshua,  when  he  observ- 
ed that  you  tossed  me  sometimes — I  don't  care  how 
often,  or  how  high  he  tosses  me,  when  only  friends  are 
present,  for  then  I  fall  upon  soft  ground  :  but  I  do  not 
like  falling  on  stones,  which  is  the  case  when  enemies 
are  present. — I  think  this  a  pretty  good  image,  Sir." 
Johnson.  "  Sir,  it  is  one  of  the  happiest  I  have  ever 
heard." 

The  truth  is,  there  was  no  venom  in  the  wounds 
which  he  inflicted  at  any  time,  unless  they  were  irritat- 
ed by  some  malignant  infusion  by  other  hands.  We 
were  instantly  as  cordial  again  as  ever,  and  joined  in 
hearty  laugh  at  some  ludicrous  but  innocent  peculiari- 
ties of  one  of  our  friends.  Boswell.  "  Do  you  think. 
Sir,  it  is  always  culpable  to  laugh  at  a  man  to  his  face  ?" 
Johnson.  "  Why,  Sir,  that  depends  upon  the  man  and 
the  thing.  If  it  is  a  slight  man,  and  a  slight  thing,  you 
may  ;  for  you  take  nothing  valuable  from  him." 


52  THE    LIFE   OF 

1778.  He  said,  "  I  read  yesterday  Dr.  Blair's  sermon  on 
^^^  Devotion,  from  the  text  ^  Cornelius^  a  devout  manS  His 
C9.  doctrine  is  the  best  limited,  the  best  expressed  :  there 
is  the  most  warmth  without  fanaticism,  the  most  ra- 
tional transport.  There  is  one  part  of  it  which  1  disap- 
prove, and  I'd  have  him  correct  it ;  which  is,  that  '  he 
who  does  not  feel  joy  in  religion  is  far  from  the  kingdom 
of  Heaven  !  there  are  many  good  men  whose  fear  of 
God  predominates  over  their  love.  It  may  discourage. 
It  was  rashly  said.  A  noble  sermon  it  is  indeed.  I 
wish  Blair  would  come  over  to  the  Church  of  England.'' 
When  Mr.  Langton  returned  to  us,  the  "  flow  of 
talk"  went  on.  An  eminent  authour  being  mentioned  ; 
Johnson.  "  He  is  not  a  pleasant  man.  His  conver- 
sation is  neither  instructive  nor  brilhant.  He  does  not 
talk  as  if  impelled  by  any  fulness  of  knowledge  or  viva- 
city of  imagination.  His  conversation  is  like  that  of 
any  other  sensible  man.  He  talks  with  no  wish  either 
to  inform  or  to  hear,  but  only  because  he  thinks  it  does 

not  become  ■ to  sit  in  a  company  and  say 

nothing." 

Mr.  Langton  having  repeated  the  anecdote  of  Addi- 
son having  distinguished  between  his  powers  in  conver- 
sation and  in  writing,  by  saying  "  1  have  only  nine- 
pence  in  my  pocket ;  but  I  can  draw  for  a  thousand 
pounds  ;"— Johnson.  "  He  had  not  that  retort  ready, 
Sir  ;  he  had  prepared  it  before-hand."  Langton  : 
(turning  to  me.)  "  A  fine  surmise.  Set  a  thief  to 
catch  a  thief." 

Johnson  called  the  East-Indians  barbarians.  Bos- 
well.  "  You  will  except  the  Chinese,  Sir  ?"  Johnson. 
"No,  Sir."  BoswELL.  "  Have  they  not  arts  ?"  John- 
son. "They  have  pottery."  Boswell.  "What  do 
you  say  to  the  written  characters  of  their  language  ?" 
Johnson.  "  Sir,  they  have  not  an  alphabet.  They  have 
not  been  able  to  form  what  all  other  nations  have  form- 
ed." BoswELL.  "There  is  more  learning  in  their  lan- 
guage than  in  any  other,  from  the  immense  number  of 
their  characters."  Johnson.  "  It  is  only  more  difficult 
from  its  rudeness  ;  as  there  is  more  labour  in  hewing 
down  a  tree  with  a  stone  than  with  an  axe." 


DR.    JOHNSON.  5S 

He  said,  "  I  have  been  reading  Lord  Karnes's  1778. 
'  Sketches  of  the  History  of  Man.'  In  treating  of  se-  "^^^ 
verity  of  punishment,  he  mentions  that  of  Madame  La-  69. ' 
pouchin,  in  Russia,  but  he  does  not  give  it  fairly  ;  for 
I  have  looked  at  Chappe  D'  Auteroche^  from  whom  he 
has  taken  it.  He  stops  where  it  is  said  that  the  specta- 
tors thought  her  innocent,  and  leaves  out  what  follows  ; 
that  she  nevertheless  was  guilty.  Now  this  is  being  as 
culpable  as  one  can  conceive,  to  misrepresent  fact  in  a 
book,  and  for  what  motive  I  It  is  like  one  of  those  lies 
which  people  tell,  one  cannot  see  why.  The  woman's 
life  was  spared  ;  and  no  punishment  was  too  great  for 
the  favourite  of  an  Empress,  who  had  conspired  to  de- 
throne her  mistress."  Boswell.  "He  was  only  giving 
a  picture  of  the  lady  in  her  sufferings."  JoH^soN. 
"  Nay,  don't  endeavour  to  palliate  this.  Guilt  is  a  prin- 
cipal feature  in  the  picture.  Kames  is  puzzled  with  a 
question  that  puzzled  me  when  1  was  a  very  young  man. 
Why  is  it  that  the  interest  of  money  is  lower,  when 
money  is  plentiful ;  for  five  pounds  has  the  same  pro- 
portion of  value  to  a  hundred  pounds  when  money  is 
plentiful,  as  when  it  is  scarce  ?  A  lady  explained  it  to 
me.  *  It  is  (said  she)  because  when  money  is  plentiful 
there  are  so  many  more  who  have  money  to  lend,  that 
they  bid  down  one  another.  Many  have  then  a  hun- 
dred pounds  ;  and  one  says, — Take  mine  rather  than 
another's,  and  you  shall  have  it  at  ^oux  per  cent"  Bos- 
well. "  Does  Lord  Kames  decide  the  question  ?" 
Johnson.  "  I  think  he  leaves  it  as  he  found  it."  Bos- 
well. "  This  must  have  been  an  extraordinary  lady 
who  instructed  you.  Sir.  May  I  ask  who  she  was  V* 
Johnson.  "  Molly  Aston,'  Sir,  the  sister  of  those  ladies 

'  Johnson  had  an  extraordinary  admiration  of  this  lady,  notwithstanding  she  was 
a  violent  Whig.  In  answer  to  her  high-flown  speeches  for  Liberty,  he  addressed 
to  her  the  following  Epigram,  of  which  I  presume  to  offer  a  translation  : 

"  Liber  ut  esse  velim,  suasisti  pulchra  Maria, 

"  Ut  maneam  liber,  pulchra  Maria  \'ale." 
Adieu,  Maria  !  since  you'd  have  me  free  ; 

For,  who  beholds  thy  charms,  a  slave  must  be. 

A  correspondent  of '  The  Gentleman's  Magazine,'  who  subscribes  himself  Scio- 
Lus,  to  whom  I  am  indebted  for  several  excellent  remarks,  observes,  "  The  turn  of 
Dr.  Johnson's  lines  to  Miss  Aston,  whose  Whig  principles  he  had  been  combating, 
appears  to  me,  to  be  taken  from  an  ingenious  epigram  m  the  Mcnagianal  [VoL  III. 


44  .  THE    LIFE    OF 

1778.  with  whom  you  dined  at  Lichfiehl. 1  shall  be  ai 

^t^t  home  to-morrow."     Bos  well.  "  Then  let  us  dine  by 
eg.    ourselves  at  the  Mitre,   to  keep   up  the  old  custom, 
*  the  custom  of  the  manor,^    custom   of  the  Mitre.'' 
Johnson.  "  vSir,  so  it  shall  be." 

On  Saturday,  May  9,  we  fulfilled  our  purpose  of 
dining  by  ourselves  at  the  Mitre,  according  to  old  cus- 
tom. There  was,  on  these  occasions,  a  little  circum- 
stance of  kind  attention  to  Mrs.  Williams,  which  must 
not  be  omitted.  Before  coming  out,  and  leaving  her  to 
dine  alone,  he  gave  her  her  choice  of  a  chicken,  a  sweet- 
bread, or  any  other  little  nice  thing,  which  was  carefully 
sent  to  her  from  the  tavern,  ready-drest. 

Our  conversation  to-day,  I  know  not  how,  turned,  I 
think  for  the  only  time  at  any  length,  during  our  long 
acquaintance,  upon  the  sensual  intercourse  between  the 
sexes,  the  delight  of  which  he  ascribed  chiefly  to  im- 
agination. "  Were  it  not  for  imagination,  Sir,  (said  he,) 
a  man  would  be  as  happy  in  the  arms  of  a  Chamber- 
maid as  of  a  Duchess.  But  such  is  the  adventitious 
charm  of  fancy,  that  we  find  men  who  have  violated 
the  best  principles  of  society,  and  ruined  their  fame  and 
their  fortune,  that  they  might  possess  a  woman  of  rank." 
It  would  not  be  proper  to  record  the  particulars  of  such 
a  conversation  in  moments  of  unreserved  frankness, 
when  nobody  was  present  on  whom  it  could  have  any 
hurtful  effect.  That  subject,  when  philosophically 
treated,  may  surely  employ  the  mind  in  a  curious  dis- 
cussion, and  as  innocently,  as  anatomy  ;  provided  that 
those  who  do  treat  it,  keep  clear  of  inflammatory  in- 
centives. 

"  From  grave  to  gay,  from  lively  to  severe," — we 
were  soon  engaged  in  very  different  speculation  ;  hum- 
bly and  reverently  considering  and   wondering  at  the 

p.  376,  edit.  1716.]  on  a  young  lady  who  appeared  at  a  masquerade,  fjaiille  en  Jes- 
uiie,  during  the  fierce  contentions  of  the  followers  of  Molinos  and  Jansenius  con- 
cerning free-will  : 

"  On  s'etonne  ici  qnc  Caliste 
Ait  pris  I'habit  de  Moliniste. 

Puisque  cette  jeune  beaute 

Ote  a  chacun  sa  liberie 
N'est  cc  pas  unc  Jansenifte  }" 


DR.   JOHNSON.  S6 

universal  mystery  of  all  things,  as  our  imperfect  facul-  1778. 
ties  can  now  judge  of  them.     "  There  are  (said  he)  in-  ^J^ 
numerable  questions  to  which  the  inquisitive  mind  can    69.* 
in  this  state  receive  no  answer  :   Why  do  you  and  I  ex- 
ist ?  Why  was  this  world  created  ?  Since  it  was  to  be 
created,  why  was  it  not  created  sooner  ?" 

On  Sunday,  May  10,  I  supped  with  him  at  Mr. 
Hoole's  with  Sir  Joshua  Reynolds.  I  have  neglected 
the  memorial  of  this  evening,  so  as  to  remember  no  more 
of  it  than  two  particulars  :  one  that  he  strenuously  op- 
posed an  argument  by  Sir  Joshua,  that  virtue  was  pref- 
erable to  vice,  considering  this  life  only  ;  and  that  a 
man  would  be  virtuous  were  it  only  to  preserve  his 
character  :  and  that  he  expressed  much  wonder  at  the 
curious  formation  of  the  bat,  a  mouse  with  wings  ;  say- 
ing, that  it  was  almost  as  strange  a  thing  in  physiology, 
as  if  the  fabulous  dragon  could  be  seen. 

On  Tuesday,  May  12,  I  waited  on  the  Earl  of  March- 
mont,  to  know  if  his  Lordship  would  favour  Dr.  John- 
son with  information  concerning  Pope,  whose  Life  he 
was  about  to  write.  Johnson  had  not  flattered  himself 
with  the  hopes  of  receiving  any  civility  from  this  noble- 
man ;  for  he  said  to  me,  when  I  mentioned  Lord  March- 
mont  as  one  who  could  tell  him  a  great  deal  about 
Pope, — "  Sir,  he  will  tell  ))ie  nothing.^^  1  had  the  hon- 
our of  being  known  to  his  Lordship,  and  applied  to  him 
of  myself,  without  being  commissioned  by  Johnson. 
His  Lordship  behaved  in  the  most  polite  and  obliging 
manner,  promised  to  tell  all  he  recollected  about  Pope, 
and  was  so  very  courteous  as  to  say,  "  Tell  Dr.  John- 
son, I  have  a  great  respect  for  him,  and  am  ready  to 
shew  it  in  any  way  I  can.  I  am  to  be  in  the  city  to- 
morrow, and  will  call  at  his  house  as  I  return."  His 
Lordship  however  asked,  "  Will  he  write  the  Lives  of 
the  Poets  impartially  ?  He  was  the  first  that  brought 
Whig  and  Tory  into  a  Dictionary.  And  what  do  you 
think  of  his  definition  of  Excise  ]  Do  you  know  the  his- 
tory of  his  aversion  to  the  word  transpire  /"  Then 
taking  down  the  folio  Dictionary,  he  shewed  it  with 
this  censure  on  its  secondary  sense  :  "  To  escape  from 
secrecy  to  notice ;  a  sense  lately  innovated  from  France, 


36  THE    LIFE    OF 

1778.  without  necessity."  The  truth  was,  Loid  Bohngbroke, 
J^^  who  left  the  Jacobites,  first  used  it  ;  therefore,  it  was 
69. '  to  be  condemned.  He  should  have  shewn  what  word 
would  do  for  it,  if  it  was  unnecessary."  I  afterwards  put 
the  question  to  Johnson  :  •  "  Why,  Sir,  (said  he,)  get 
abroad."  Boswell.  "  That,  Sir,  is  using  two  words." 
Johnson.  "  Sir,  there  is  no  end  of  this.  You  may  as 
well  insist  to  have  a  word  for  old  age."  Boswell. 
"  Well,  Sir,  Senectus"  Johnson.  "  Nay,  Sir,  to  insist 
always  that  there  should  be  one  word  to  express  a  thing 
in  English,  because  there  is  one  in  another  language,  is 
to  change  the  language." 

I  availed  myself  of  this  opportunity  to  hear  from  his 
Lordship  many  particulars  both  of  Pope  and  Lord  Bol- 
ingbroke,  which  1  have  in  writing. 

1  proposed  to  Lord  Marchmont,  that  he  should  revise 
Johnson's  Life  of  Pope  :  "  So  (said  his  Lordship)  you 
would  put  me  in  a  dangerous  situation.  You  know  he 
knocked  down  Osborne,  the  bookseller." 

Elated  with  the  success  of  my  spontaneous  exertion 
to  procure  material  and  respectable  aid  to  Johnson  for 
his  very  favourite  work,  "  the  Lives  of  the  Poets,"  I 
hastened  down  to  Mr.  Thrale^s  at  Streatham,  where  he 
now  was,  that  1  might  insure  his  being  at  home  next 
day  ;  and  after  dinner,  when  1  thought  he  would  re- 
ceive the  good  news  in  the  best  humour,  1  announced 
it  eagerly  :  "  1  have  been  at  work  for  you  to-day.  Sir. 
I  have  been  with  Lord  Marchmont.  He  bade  me  tell 
you,  he  has  a  great  respect  for  you,  and  will  call  on 
you  to-morrow,  at  one  o'clock,  and  communicate  all  he 
knows  about  Pope." — Here  I  paused,  in  full  expecta- 
tion that  he  would  be  pleased  with  this  intelligence, 
would  praise  my  active  merit,  and  would  be  alert  to 
embrace  such  an  offer  from  a  nobleman.  But  whether 
I  had  shewn  an  over-exultation,  which  provoked  his 
spleen  ;  or  whether  he  was  seized  with  a  suspicion  that 
I  had  obtruded  him  on  Lord  Marchmont,  and  humbled 
him  too  much  ;  or  whether  there  was  any  thing  more 
than  an  unlucky  fit  of  ill-humour,  I  know  not ;  but  to 
my  surprise,  the  result  was, — Johnson.  "  I  shall  not 
be  in  town  to-morrow.     1  don't  care  to  know  about 


DR.    JOHNSOIS'.  <57 

Pope."  Mrs.  Thrale  :  (surprized  as  I  was,  and  a  **78. 
little  angry.)  "  I  suppose,  Sir,  Mr.  Boswell  thought,  ^^ 
that  as  you  are  to  write  Pope's  Life,  you  would  wish  to  69. 
know  about  him."  Johnson.  "  Wish  !  why  yes.  If 
it  rained  knowledge,  Pd  hold  out  my  hand  ;  but  I 
would  not  give  myself  the  trouble  to  go  in  quest  of  it." 
There  was  no  arguing  with  him  at  the  moment.  Some 
time  afterwards  he  said,  "  Lord  Marchmont  will  call  on 
me,  and  then  I  shall  call  on  Lord  Marchmont."  Mrs. 
Thrale  was  uneasy  at  his  unaccountable  caprice  ;  and 
told  me,  that  if  1  did  not  take  care  to  bring  about  a 
meeting  between  Lord  Marchmont  and  him  it  would 
never  take  place,  which  would  be  a  great  pity.  I  sent 
a  card  to  his  Lordship,  to  be  left  at  Johnson's  house, 
acquainting  him,  that  Dr.  Johnson  could  not  be  in 
town  next  day,  but  would  do  himself  the  honour  of 
waiting  on  him  at  another  time. — 1  give  this  account 
fairly,  as  a  specimen  of  that  unhappy  temper  with  which 
this  great  and  good  man  had  occasionally  to  struggle, 
from  something  morbid  in  his  constitution.  Let  the 
most  censorious  of  my  readers  suppose  himself  to  have 
a  violent  fit  of  the  tooth-ach,  or  to  have  received  a  se- 
vere stroke  on  the  shin-bone,  and  when  in  such  a  stale 
to  be  asked  a  question  ;  and  if  he  has  any  candour  he 
will  not  be  surprized  at  the  answers  which  Johnson 
sometimes  gave  in  moments  of  irritation,  which,  let  me 
assure  them,  is  exquisitely  painful.  But  it  must  not 
be  erroneously  supposed  that  he  was,  in  the  smallest 
degree,  careless  concerning  any  work  which  he  under- 
took, or  that  he  was  generally  thus  peevish.  It  will  be 
seen  that  in  the  following  year  he  had  a  very  agreeable 
interview  with  Lord  Marchmont,  at  his  Lordship's 
house  ;  and  this  very  afternoon  he  soon  forgot  any  fret- 
fulness,  and  fell  into  conversation  as  usual. 

1  mentioned  a  reflection  having  been  thrown  out 
against  four  Peers  for  having  presumed  to  rise  in  op- 
position to  the  opinion  of  the  twelve  Judges,  in  a  cause 
in  the  House  of  Lords,  as  if  that  were  indecent. 
Johnson.  "  Sir,  there  is  no  ground  for  censure.  The 
Peers  are  Judges  themselves  :  and  supposing  them 
really  to  be  of  a  different  opinion,  they  miaht  from  duty 

VOL.   TTT.  8 


•58  IHE    LIFE    OF 

1778.  be  in  opposition  to  the  Judges,  who  were  there  only  to 

^J^  be  consulted." 

69.  In  this  observation  I  fully  concurred  with  him  ;  for 
unquestionably,  all  the  Peers  are  vested  with  the  high- 
est judicial  powers  ;  and  when  they  are  confident  that 
they  understand  a  cause,  are  not  obliged,  nay  ought 
not  to  acquiesce  in  the  opinion  of  the  ordinary  Law 
Judges,  or  even  in  that  of  those  who  from  their  studies 
and  experience  are  called  the  Law  Lords.  I  consider 
the  Peers  in  general  as  I  do  a  Jury,  who  ought  to  listen 
with  respectful  attention  to  the  sages  of  the  law  ;  but, 
if  after  hearing  them,  they  have  a  firm  opinion  of  their 
own,  are  bound,  as  honest  men,  to  decide  accordingly. 
Nor  is  it  so  difficult  for  them  to  understand  even  law 
questions,  as  is  generally  thought  ;  provided  they  will 
bestow  sufficient  attention  upon  them.  This  observa- 
tion was  made  by  my  honoured  relation  to  the  late 
l^ord  Cathcart,  who  had  spent  his  life  in  camps  and 
courts  ;  yet  he  assured  me,  that  he  could  form  a  clear 
opinion  upon  most  of  the  causes  that  came  before  the 
House  of  Lords,  "  as  they  were  so  well  enucleated  in 
the  Cases." 

Mrs.  Thrale  told  us,  that  a  curious  clergyman  of  our 
acquaintance  had  discovered  a  licentious  stanza,  which 
Pope  had  originally  in  his  "  Universal  Prayer,"  before 
the  stanza, 

"  What  conscience  dictates  to  be  done, 
"  Or  warns  us  not  to  do,"  &c. 

It  was  this  : 

"  Can  sins  of  moment  claim  the  rod, 

"  Of  everlasting  fires  ? 
"  And  that  offend  great  Nature's  God, 

"  Which  Nature's  self  inspires  ?" 

and  that  Dr.  Johnson  observed,  "  it  had  been  borrow- 
ed from  Gnarim"  There  are,  indeed,  in  Pastor 
Fic/o,  many  such  flimsy  superficial  reasonings,  as  that 
in  the  last  two  lines  of  this  stanza. 

BoswELL.  "  In  that  stanza  of  Pope's,  '  rod  ofjires^ 
is  certainly  a  bad  metaphor."     Mrs.  Thrale.  "  And 


DR.    JOHNSON.  6[) 

'  sins  of  moment^  is  a  faulty  expression  ;  for  its  true  im-  ^778. 
port  is  momentous^  which  cannot  be  intended."  John-^^^ 
SON.  "  It  must  have  been  written  '  oi  moment s'  Of  Cg. 
moment^  is  momentous  ;  of  moments,  momentarij.  I 
warrant  you  however,  Pope  wrote  this  stanza,  and 
some  friend  struck  it  out.  Boileau  wrote  some  such 
thing,  and  Arnaud  struck  it  out,  saying,  '  Voiis  gagne- 
rez  deux  ou  trois  impies,  et  perdrez  je  ne  sais  combien 
des  honnettes  gens.'  These  fellows  want  to  say  a  dar- 
ing thing,  and  don't  know  how  to  go  about  it.  Mere 
poets  know  no  more  of  fundamental  principles  than — ." 
Here  he  was  interrupted  somehow.  Mrs.  Thrale  men- 
tioned Dryden.  Johnson.  "  He  puzzled  himself 
about  predestination. — How  foolish  was  it  in  Pope  to 
give  all  his  friendship  to  Lords,  who  thought  they  hon- 
oured him  by  being  with  him  ;  and  to  choose  such 
Lords  as  Burlington,  and  Cobham,  and  Bolingbroke  ? 
Bathurst  was  negative,  a  pleasing  man  ;  and  I  have 
heard  no  ill  of  Marchmont  ; — and  then  always  saying, 
'  I  do  not  value  you  for  being  a  Lord  ;'  which  was  a 
sure  proof  that  he  did.  I  never  say,  I  do  not  value 
Boswell  more  for  being  born  to  an  estate,  because  1  do 
not  care."  Boswell.  "  Nor  for  being  a  Scotchman  I" 
Johnson.  "  Nay,  Sir,  I  do  value  you  more  for  being  a 
Scotchman.  You  are  a  Scotchman  without  the  faults 
of  Scotchmen.  You  would  not  have  been  so  valuable 
as  you  are  had  you  not  been  a  Scotchman." 

Talking  of  divorces,   1  asked  if  Othello's  doctrine 
was  not  plausible  ; 

"  He  that  is  robb'd,  not  w^anting  what  is  stolen, 

"  Let  him  not  know't,  and  he's  not   robb'd  at  all." 

Dr.  Johnson  and  Mrs.  Thrale  joined  against  this. 
Johnson.  "  x\sk  any  man  if  he'd  wish  not  to  know  of 
such  an  injury."  Boswell.  "  Would  you  tell  your 
friend  to  make  him  unhappy  !"  Johnson.  "Perhaps, 
Sir,  I  should  not  ;  but  that  would  be  from  prudence 
on  my  own  account.  A  man  would  tell  his  father." 
Boswell.  "  Yes  ;  because  he  would  not  have  spu- 
rious children  to  get  any  share  of  the  family  inherit- 
ance."   Mrs.  Thrale.  *'  Or  he  would  tell  his  brother." 


60  THE    LIFE    OF 

1778.  BosAVELL.   "  Certainly  his  elder  brother."     Johnson. 
^J^  "  You  would  tell  your  friend  of  a  woman's  infamy,  to 
69.    prevent  his  marrying  a  whore  :  there  is  the  same  rea- 
son to  tell  him  of  his  wife's  infidelity,  when  he  is  mar- 
ried, to  prevent  the  consequences  of  imposition.     It  is 
a  breach  of  confidence  not  to  tell  a  friend."     Boswell. 

"  Would  you  tell  Mr. ?"  (naming  a  gentleman 

who  assuredly  was  not  in  the  least  danger  of  such  a 
miserable  disgrace,  though  married  to  a  fine  woman.) 
Johnson.  "  No,  Sir ;  because  it  would  do  no  good  : 
he  is  so  sluggish,  he'd  never  go  to  parliament  and  get 
through  a  divorce." 

He  said  of  one  of  our  friends,  "  He  is  ruining  him- 
self without  pleasure.  A  man  who  loses  at  play,  or 
who  runs  out  his  fortune  at  court,  makes  his  estate 
less,  in  hopes  of  making  it  bigger  :  (I  am  sure  of  this 
word,  which  was  often  used  by  him  :)  but  it  is  a  sad 
thing  to  pass  through  the  quagmire  of  parsimony,  to 
the  gulph  of  ruin.  To  pass  over  the  flowery  path  of 
extravagance,  is  very  well." 

Amongst  the  numerous  prints  pasted  on  the  walls 
of  the  dining-room  at  Streatham,  was  Hogarth's  '  Mod- 
ern Midnight  Conversation.'  I  asked  him  what  he 
knew  of  Parson  Ford,  who  makes  a  conspicuous  figure 
in  the  riotous  group.  Johnson.  "  Sir,  he  was  my  ac- 
quaintance and  relation,  my  mother's  nephew.  He 
had  purchased  a  living  in  the  country,  but  not  simoni- 
acally.  1  never  saw  him  but  in  the  country.  I  have 
been  told  he  was  a  man  of  great  parts ;  very  profligate, 
but  I  never  heard  he  was  impious."  Boswell.  "  Was 
there  not  a  story  of  his  ghost  having  appeared  I"  John- 
son. "  Sir,  it  was  believed.  A  waiter  at  the  Hum- 
mums,  in  which  house  Ford  died,  had  been  absent  for 
some  time,  and  returned,  not  knowing  that  Ford  was 
dead.  Going  down  to  tlie  cellar,  according  to  the 
story,  he  met  him  ;  going  down  again,  he  met  him  a 
second  time.  When  he  came  up,  he  asked  some  of 
the  people  of  the  house  what  Ford  could  be  doing 
there.  They  told  him  Ford  was  dead.  The  waiter 
took  a  fever,  in  which  he  lay  for  some  time.  When 
he  recovered  he  said  he  had  a  messasfe  to  deliver  to 


DR.    JOHNSON.  61 

some  women  from  Ford  ;  but  he  was  not  to  tell  what,  1778. 
or  to  whom.  He  walked  out  ;  he  was  followed  ;  but  JJ^ 
somewhere  about  St.  PauPs  they  lost  him.  He  came  69. 
back,  and  said  he  had  delivered  the  message,  atid  the 
women  exclaimed,  '  Then  we  are  all  undone  V  Dr. 
Pellet,  who  was  not  a  credulous  man,  enquired  into 
the  truth  of  this  story,  and  he  said,  the  evidence  was 
irresistible.  My  wife  went  to  the  Hummums  ;  (it  is  a 
place  where  people  get  themselves  cupped.)  1  believe 
she  went  with  intention  to  hear  about  this  story  of 
Ford.  At  first  they  were  unwilling  to  tell  her  ;  but, 
after  they  had  talked  to  her,  she  came  away  satisfied 
that  it  was  true.  To  be  sure,  the  man  had  a  fever  ; 
and  this  vision  may  have  been  the  beginning  of  it. 
But  if  the  message  to  the  women,  and  their  behaviour 
upon  it  were  true  as  related,  there  was  something  su- 
pernatural. That  rests  upon  his  word  ;  and  there  it 
remains." 

After  Mrs.  Thrale  was  gone  to  bed,  Johnson  and  I 
sat  up  late.  We  resumed  Sir  Joshua  Reynolds's  argu- 
ment on  the  preceding  Sunday,  that  a  man  would  be 
virtuous,  though  he  had  no  other  motive  than  to  pre- 
serve his  character.  Johnson.  "  Sir,  it  is  not  true  : 
for,  as  to  this  world,  vice  does  not  hurt  a  man's  char- 
acter." BoswELL.  "  Yes,  Sir,  debauching  a  friend's 
wife  will."     Johnson.    "  No,  Sir.     Who  thinks  the 

worse  of for  it."     Boswell.  "  Lord was 

not  his  friend."  Johnson.  "  That  is  only  a  circum- 
stance, Sir  ;  a  slight  distinction.     He  could   not  get 

into  the  house  but  by  Lord .     A  man  is  chosen 

Knight  of  the  shire,  not  the  less  for  having  debauched 
ladies."  Boswell.  "  What,  Sir,  if  he  debauched  the 
ladies  of  gentlemen  in  the  county,  will  not  there  be  a 
general  resentment  against  him  ?"  Johnson.  "  No, 
Sir.  He  will  lose  those  particular  gentlemen  ;  but  the 
rest  will  not  trouble  their  heads  about  it."  (warmly.) 
Boswell.  "  Well,  Sir,  I  cannot  think  so."  Johnson. 
"  Nay,  Sir,  there  is  no  talking  with  a  man  who  will 
dispute  what  every  body  knows,  (angrily.)  Don't  you 
know  this  ?"  Boswell.  "  No,  Sir  ;  and  I  wish  to 
think  better  of  your  country  than  you  represent  it.     I 


69  THE    LIFE    OF 

1778.  knew  in  Scotland  a  gentleman  obliged  to  leave  it  for 

'^^  debauching  a  lady  ;  and  in  one  of  our  counties  an  Earl's 

09.  *  brother  lost  his  election,  because   he  had  debauched 

the  lady  of  another  Earl  in  that  county,  and  destroyed 

the  peace  of  a  noble  family." 

Still  he  would  not  yield.  He  proceeded  :  "  Will 
you  not  allow,  Sir,  that  vice  does  not  hurt  a  man's  char- 
acter so  as  to  obstruct  his  prosperity  in  life,  when  you 

know  that was  loaded  with  wealth  and  honours  ; 

a  man  who  had  acquired  his  fortune  by  such  crimes, 
that  his  consciousness  of  them  impelled  him  to  cut  his 
own  throat."  }3oswell.  "  You  will  recollect,  Sir, 
that  Dr.  Robertson  said,  he  cut  his  throat  because  he 
was  weary  of  still  life  -,  little  things  not  being  sufficient 
to  move  his  great  mind."  Johnson,  (very  angry.) 
"  Nay,  Sir,  what  stuff  is  this  ?  You  had  no  more  this 
opinion  after  Robertson  said  it,  than  before.  1  know 
nothing  more  offensive  than  repeating  what  one  knows 
to  be  foolish  things,  by  way  of  continuing  a  dispute,  to 
see  what  a  man  will  answer, — to  make  him  your  butt !" 
(angrier  still.)  Boswell.  "  My  dear  Sir,  1  had  no 
such  intention  as  you  seem  to  suspect :  1  had  not  in- 
deed. Might  not  this  nobleman  have  felt  every  thing 
'  weary,  stale,  flat,  and  unprofitable,'  as  Hamlet  says  I" 
Johnson.  "  Nay,  if  you  are  to  bring  in  gabble,  Plltalk 
no  more.  1  will  not,  upon  my  honour." — My  readfers 
will  decide  upon  this  dispute. 

Next  morning  I  stated  to  Mrs.  Thrale  at  breakfast, 
before  he  came  down,  the  dispute  of  last  night  as  to 
the  influence  of  character  upon  success  in  life.  She 
said  he  was  certainly  wrong ;  and  told  me,  that  a  Bar- 
onet lost  an  election  in  VYales,  because  he  had  de- 
bauched the  sister  of  a  gentleman  in  the  county,  whom 
he  made  one  of  his  daughters  invite  as  her  companion 
at  his  seat  in  the  country,  when  his  lady  and  his  other 
children  were  in  London.  But  she  would  not  encoun- 
ter Johnson  upon  the  subject. 

1  staid  all  this  day  with  him  at  Streatham.  He  talk- 
ed a  great  deal  in  very  good  humour. 

Looking  at  Messrs.  Dilly's  splendid  edition  of  Lord 
Chesterfield's  miscellaneous  works,  he    laughed,  and 


DR.  JOHNSON.  63 

said,   "  Here  are  now  two  speeches,  ascribed  to  him,  ^778. 
both  of  which  were  written  by  me :  and  the  best  of  it  ^J^ 
is,  they  have  found  oiit  that  one  is  hke  Demosthenes,   69. 
and  the  other  like  Cicero." 

He  censured  Lord  Karnes's  "  Sketches  of  the  History 
of  Man,"  for  misrepresenting  Clarendon's  account  of 
the  appearance  of  Sir  George  Villiers's  ghost,  as  if  Clar- 
endon were  weakly  credulous  ;  when  the  truth  is,  that 
Clarendon  only  says,  that  the  story  was  upon  a  better 
foundation  of  credit,  than  usually  such  discourses  are 
founded  upon  ;  nay,  speaks  thus  of  the  person  who 
was  reported  to  have  seen  the  vision,  "  the  poor  man, 
if  he  had  been  at  all  waking  ;"  which  Lord  Kames  has 
omitted.  He  added,  "  in  this  book  it  is  maintained 
that  virtue  is  natural  to  man,  and,  that  if  we  would  but 
consult  our  own  hearts,  we  should  be  virtuous.  Now 
after  consulting  our  own  hearts  all  we  can,  and  with  all 
the  helps  we  have,  we  find  how  few  of  us  are  virtuous. 
This  is  saying  a  thing  which  all  mankind  know  not  to 
be  true."  Boswell.  "  Is  not  modesty  natural  ]" 
Johnson.  "I  cannot  say.  Sir,  as  we  find  no  people 
quite  in  a  state  of  nature  ;  but  1  think,  the  more  they 
are  taught,  the  more  modest  they  are.  The  French  are 
a  gross,  ill-bred,  untaught  people ;  a  lady  there  will 
spit  on  the  floor  and  rub  it  with  her  foot.  What  I 
gained  by  being  in  France  was,  learning  to  be  better 
satisfied  with  my  own  country.  Time  may  be  employ- 
ed to  more  advantage  from  nineteen  to  twenty-four,  al- 
most in  any  way  than  in  travelling ;  when  you  set 
travelling  against  mere  negation,  against  doing  nothing, 
it  is  better  to  be  sure  ;  but  how  much  more  would 
a  young  man  improve  were  he  to  study  during  those 
years.  Indeed,  if  a  young  man  is  wild,  and  must  run 
after  women  and  bad  company,  it  is  better  this  should 
be  done  abroad,  as,  on  his  return,  he  can  break  off  such 
connections,  and  begin  at  home  a  new  man,  with  a 
character  to  form,  and  acquaintances  to  make.  How 
little  does  travelling  supply  to  the  conversation  of  any 
man  who  has  travelled  ;  how  little  to  Beauclerk  ?"  Bos- 

w^ELL.  "What  say  you  to  Lord ?"   Johnson. 

"  I  never  but  once  heard  him  talk  of  what  he  had  seen, 


64.  THE    LIFE    OF 

1778.  and  that  was  of  a  large  serpent  in  one  of  the  Pyramidis 
^^J^  of  Egypt."     BoswELL.  "  Well,  1  happened  to  hear  him 
69.    tell  the  same  thing,  which  made  me  mention  him." 

1  talked  of  a  country  life. — Johnson.  "  Were  1  to 
live  in  the  country,  I  would  not  devote  myself  to  the 
acquisition  of  popularity  ;  1  would  live  in  a  much  bet- 
ter way,  much  more  happily  ;  1  would  have  my  time  at 
my  own  command."  Boswell.  "  But,  Sir,  is  it  not  a 
sad  thing  to  beat  a  distance  from  all  our  literary  friends?" 
Johnson.  "Sir,  you  will  by  and  by  have  enough  of  this 
conversation,  which  now  delights  you  so  much." 

As  he  was  a  zealous  friend  of  subordination,  he  was 
at  all  times  watchful  to  repress  the  vulgar  cant  against 
the  manners  of  the  great ;  "  High  people,  Sir,  (said  he,) 
are  the  best  ;  take  a  hundred  ladies  of  quality,  you'll 
find  them  better  wives,  better  mothers,  more  willing  to 
sacrifice  their  own  pleasure  to  their  children,  than  a 
hundred  other  women.  Tradeswomen  (I  mean  the 
wives  of  tradesmen)  in  the  city,  who  are  worth  from 
ten  to  fifteen  thousand  pounds,  are  the  worst  creatures 
upon  the  earth,  grossly  ignorant,  and  thinking  vicious- 
ness  fashionable.  Farmers,  I  think,  are  often  worthless 
fellows.  Few  Lords  will  cheat ;  and,  if  they  do,  they'll 
be  ashamed  of  it :  farmers  cheat  and  are  not  ashamed 
of  it :  they  have  all  the  sensual  vices  too  of  the  nobility, 
with  cheating  into  the  bargain.  There  is  as  much  for- 
nication and  adultery  amongst  farmers  as  amongst  noble- 
men." BoswELL.  "  The  notion  of  the  world.  Sir,  how- 
ever, is,  that  the  morals  of  women  of  quality  are  worse 
than  those  in  lower  stations."  Johnson.  "Yes,  Sir,  the 
licentiousness  of  one  woman  of  quality  makes  more  noise 
than  that  of  a  number  of  women  in  lower  stations  ;  then, 
Sir,  you  are  to  consider  the  malignity  of  women  in  the 
city  against  women  of  quality,  which  will  make  them 
believe  any  thing  of  them,  such  as  that  they  call  their 
coachmen  to  bed.  No,  Sir,  so  far  as  I  have  observed, 
the  higher  in  rank,  the  richer  ladies  are,  they  are  the 
better  instructed  and  the  more  virtuous." 

This  year  the  Reverend  Mr.  Home  published  his 
"  Letter  to  Mr.  Dunning,  on  the  English  Particle  ;" 
Johnson  read  it,  and  though  not  treated  in  it  with  suf- 


DR.   JOHNSON.  65 

ficient  respect,  he  had  candour  enough  to  say  to  Mr.  1778. 
Seward,  "  Were  1  to  make  a  new  edition  of  my  Diction-  ^J^ 
ary,  I  would  adopt  several*  of  Mr.  Home's  etymologies;   gg. 
I  hope  they  did  not  put  the  dog  in  the  pillory  for  his 
libel ;  he  has  too  much  literature  for  that." 

On  Saturday,  May  16,  I  dined  with  him  at  Mr. 
Beauclerk's  with  Mr.  Langton,  Mr.  Steevens,  Dr.  Hig- 
gins,  and  some  others.  I  regret  very  feelingly  every 
instance  of  my  remissness  in  recording  his  memorabilia  ; 
I  am  afraid  it  is  the  condition  of  humanity  (as  Mr. 
Windham,  of  Norfolk,  once  observed  to  me,  after  hav- 
ing made  an  admirable  speech  in  the  House  of  Com- 
mons, which  was  highly  applauded,  but  which  he  af- 
terwards perceived  might  have  been  better  :)  "  that  we 
are  more  uneasy  from  thinking  of  our  wants,  than  hap- 
py in  thinking  of  our  acquisitions."  This  is  an  unrea- 
sonable mode  of  disturbing  our  tranquillity,  and  should 
be  corrected  ;  let  me  then  comfort  myself  with  the 
large  treasure  of  Johnson's  conversation  which  I  have 
preserved  for  my  own  enjoyment  and  that  of  the  world, 
and  let  me  exhibit  what  I  have  upon  each  occasion, 
whether  more  or  less,  whether  a  bulse,  or  only  a  few 
sparks  of  a  diamond. 

He  said,  "  Dr.  Mead  lived  more  in  the  broad  sun- 
shine of  life  than  almost  any  man." 

The  disaster  of  General  Burgoyne's  army  was  then 
the  common  topick  of  conversation.  It  was  asked  why 
piling  their  arms  was  insisted  upon  as  a  matter  of  such 
consequence,  when  it  seemed  to  be  a  circumstance  so 
inconsiderable  in  itself.  Johnson.  "  Why,  Sir,  a  French 
authour  says,  ''  II  y  a  beaucoup  de  puerilites  dans  la 
guerre/  All  distinctions  are  trifles,  because  great  things 
can  seldom  occur,  and  those  distinctions  are  settled  by 
custom.  A  savage  would  as  willingly  have  his  meat 
sent  to  him  in  the  kitchen,  as  eat  it  at  the  table  here  : 
as  men  become  civilized,  various  modes  of  denotin?: 
honourable  preference  are  invented." 


'o 


'  In  Mr.  Home  Tooke's  enlargement  of  that  "  Letter,"  which  he  has  since  pub- 
1  ished  with  the  title  of  "  E^ecc  TTTopoivrx ;  or,  the  Diversions  of  Purley  ;"  he  men- 
tions this  compliment,  as  if  Dr.  Johnson  instead  of  several  of  his  etymologies  had 
said  all.  His  recollection  having  thus  magnified  it,  shews  how  ambitious  he  was 
of  the  approbation  of  so  great  a  man. 
VOL.  III.  0 


66  THE    LIFE    OF 

177B.  He  this  day  made  the  observations  upon  the  similar- 
^J^  ity  between  "  Rasselas"  and  "  Candide  :"  which  1  have 
6g.  inserted  in  its  proper  place,  when  considering  his  adnnir- 
able  philosophical  Romance.  He  said  "  Candide"  he 
thought  had  more  power  in  it  than  any  thing  that  Vol- 
taire had  written. 

He  said,  "  The  lyrical  part  of  Horace  never  can  be 
perfectly  translated ;  so  much  of  the  excellence  is  in 
the  numbers  and  the  expression.  Francis  has  done 
it  the  best ;  PU  take  his,  five  out  of  six,  against  them  all." 

On  Sunday,  May  17,  I  presented  to  him  Mr.  Ful- 
larton,  of  Fullarton,  who  has  since  distinguished  himself 
so  much  in  India,  to  whom  he  naturally  talked  of  trav- 
els, as  Mr.  Brydone  accompanied  him  in  his  tour  to 
Sicily  and  Malta.  He  said,  "  The  information  which 
we  have  from  modern  travellers  is  much  more  authen- 
tick  than  what  we  had  from  ancient  travellers ;  ancient 
travellers  guessed  ;  modern  travellers  measure.  The 
Swiss  admit  that  there  is  but  one  errour  in  Stanyan.  If 
Brydone  were  more  attentive  to  his  Bible,  he  would  be 
a  good  traveller." 

He  said,  "  Lord  Chatham  was  a  Dictator ;  he  possess- 
ed the  power  of  putting  the  State  in  motion  ;  now 
there  is  no  power,  all  order  is  relaxed."  Boswell.  "  Is 
there  no  hope  of  a  change  to  the  better  ?"  Johnson. 
"  Why,  yes.  Sir,  when  we  are  weary  of  this  relaxation. 
So  the  City  of  London  will  appoint  its  Mayors  again  by 
seniority."  Boswell.  "  But  is  not  that  taking  a  mere 
chance  for  having  a  good  or  a  bad  Mayor?"  Johnson. 
"  Yes,  Sir ;  but  the  evil  of  competition  is  greater  than 
that  of  the  worst  Mayor  that  can  come  ;  besides,  there 
is  no  more  reason  to  suppose  that  the  choice  of  a  rabble 
will  be  right,  than  that  chance  will  be  right." 

On  Tuesday,  May  19,  I  was  to  set  out  for  Scotland 
in  the  evening.  He  was  engaged  to  dine  with  me  at 
Mr.  Dilly's  ;  1  waited  upon  him  to  remind  him  of  his 
appointment  and  attend  him  thither  ;  he  gave  me  some 
salutary  counsel,  and  recommended  vigorous  resolution 
against  any  deviation  from  moral  duty.  Boswell. 
"  But  you  would  not  have  me  to  bind  myself  by  a  sol- 
emn obligation  ?"    Johnson,  (much  agitated)  "  What ! 


I 


DR.    JOHNSON.  67 

a  vow — O,  no,  Sir,  a  vow  is  a  horrible  thing,  it  is  a  ^778. 
snare  for  sin.  The  man  who  cannot  go  to  heaven  with- 
out a  vow — may  go — '^  Here,  standing  erect,  in  the 
middle  of  his  hbrary,  and  rolling  grand,  his  pause  was 
truly  a  curious  compound  of  the  solemn  and  the  ludi- 
crous ;  he  half-whistled  in  his  usual  way,  when  pleas- 
ant, and  he  paused,  as  if  checked  by  religious  awe. — 
Methought  he  would  have  added — to  Hell — but  was 
restrained.  I  humoured  the  dilemma.  "  What  !  Sir, 
(said  I,)  '  In  ccelum  jusseris  ib'U  P  alluding  to  his  imi- 
tation of  it, 

"  And  bid  him  go  to  Hell,  to  Hell  he  goes." 

I  had  mentioned  to  him  a  slight  fault  in  his  noble 
"  Imitation  of  the  Tenth  Satire  of  Juvenal,"  a  too  near 
recurrence  of  the  verb  spread^  in  his  description  of  the 
young  Enthusiast  at  College  : 

"  Through  all  his  veins  the  fever  of  renown, 
"  Spreads  from  the  strong  contagion  of  the  gown  ; 
"  O^er  Bodley's  dome  his  future  labours  spread^ 
"  And  Bacon's  mansion  trembles  o'er  his  head." 

He  had  desired  me  to  change  spreads  to  biiriis,  but 
for  perfect  authenticity,  I  now  had  it  done  with  his  own 
hand.'  I  thought  this  alteration  not  only  cured  the 
fault,  but  was  more  poetical,  as  it  might  carry  an  allu- 
sion to  the  shirt  by  which  Hercules  was  inflamed. 

We  had  a  quiet  comfortable  meeting  at  Mr.  Dilly's  ; 
nobody  there  but  ourselves.  Mr.  Dilly  mentioned 
somebody  having  wished  that  Milton's  "  Tractate  on 
Education"  should  be  printed  along  with  his  Poems  in 
the  edition  of  the  English  Poets  then  going  on.  John- 
son. "  It  would  be  breaking  in  upon  the  plan  ;  but 
would  be  of  no  great  consequence.  So  far  as  it  would 
be  any  thing,  it  would  be  wrong.  Education  in  England 
has  been  in  danger  of  being  hurt  by  two  of  its  greatest 
men,  Milton  and  Locke.  Milton's  plan  is  impractica- 
ble, and  I  suppose  has  never  been  tried.     Locke's,  I 

"^  The  slip  of  paper  on  which  he  made  the  correction,  Is  deposited  by  me  in  the 
noble  hbrary  to  which  it  relates,  and  to  which  I  have  presented  other  pieces  of  his 
hand-writing. 


68  THE    LIFE    OF 

1778,  fancy,  has  been  tried  often  enough,  but  is  very  imper- 
^^^  feet ;  it  gives  too  much  to  one  side,  and  too  little  to 
6p.  the  other  ;  it  gives  too  little  to  literature — I  shall  do 
what  1  can  for  Dr.  Watts ;  but  my  materials  are  very 
scanty.  His  poems  are  by  no  means  his  best  works  ; 
I  cannot  praise  his  poetry  itself  highly  ;  but  1  can 
praise  its  design." 

My  illustrious  friend  and  I  parted  with  assurances  of 
affectionate  regard. 

1  wrote  to  him  on  the  25th  of  May,  from  Thorpe  in 
Yorkshire,  one  of  the  seats  of  Mr.  Bosville,  and  gave 
him  an  account  of  my  having  passed  a  day  at  Lincoln, 
unexpectedly,  and  therefore  without  having  any  letters 
of  introduction,  but  that  I  had  been  honoured  with  ci- 
vilities from  the  Rev.  Mr.  Simpson,  an  acquaintance  of 
his,  and  Captain  Broadley,  of  the  Lincolnshire  Militia; 
but  more  particularly  from  the  Rev.  Dr.  Gordon,  the 
Chancellor,  who  first  received  me  with  great  poHteness 
as  a  stranger,  and,  when  I  informed  him  who  1  was,  en- 
tertained me  at  his  house  with  the  most  flattering  at- 
tention ;  I  also  expressed  the  pleasure  with  which  I 
had  found  that  our  worthy  friend,  Langton,  was  highly 
esteemed  in  his  own  county  town. 

"  TO  DR.  SAMUEL  JOHNSON. 

"  Edinburgh,  June  18,  177^. 

"  MY  DEAR  SIR, 

%%%%.% 

"  Since  my  return  to  Scotland,  I  have  been  again 
at  Lanark,  and  have  had  more  conversation  with  Thom- 
son's sister.  It  is  strange  that  Murdoch,  who  was  his 
intimate  friend,  should  have  mistaken  his  mother's 
maiden  name,  which  he  says  was  Hume,  whereas 
Hume  was  the  name  of  his  grandmother  by  the  mother's 
side.  His  mother's  name  was  Beatrix  Trotter,  *  a  daugh- 
ter of  Mr.  Trotter,  of  Fogo,  a  small  proprietor  of  land. 
Thomson  had  one  brother,  whom  he  had  with  him  in 
England  as  his  amanuensis  ;  but  he  was  seized  with  a 

'  Dr.  Johnson  was  by  no  means  attentive  to  minute  accuracy  in  his  "  Lives  of  the 
Poets  ;"  for  notwithstanding  my  having  detected  tliis  mistake,  he  has  continued  it. 


DR.   JOHNSON.  69 

consumption,  and  having  returned  to  Scotland,  to  try  '778. 
what  his  native  air  would  do  for  him,  died  young.  He  ^J^ 
had  three  sisters,  one  married  to  Mr.  Bell,  minister  of  69. 
the  parish  of  Strathaven  ;  one  to  Mr.  Craig,  father  of 
the  ingenious  architect,  who  gave  the  plan  of  the  New 
Town  of  Edinburgh  ;  and  one  to  Mr.  Thomson,  master 
of  the  grammar-school  at  Lanark.  He  was  of  a  humane 
and  benevolent  disposition  ;  not  only  sent  valuable 
presents  to  his  sisters,  but  a  yearly  allowance  in  money, 
and  was  always  wishing  to  have  it  in  his  power  to  do 
them  more  good.  Lord  Lyttelton's  observation,  that 
*  he  loathed  much  to  write,^  was  very  true.  His  let- 
ters to  his  sister,  Mrs.  Thomson,  were  not  frequent, 
and  in  one  of  them  he  says,  '  All  my  friends  who  know 
me,  know  how  backward  I  am  to  write  letters  ;  and 
never  impute  the  negligence  of  my  hand  to  the  cold- 
ness of  my  heart.'  1  send  you  a  copy  of  the  last  let* 
ter  which  she  had  from  him  ;  she  never  heard  that  he 
had  any  intention  of  going  into  holy  orders.  From  this 
late  interview  with  his  sister,  I  think  much  more  fa- 
vourably of  him,  as  I  hope  you  will.  I  am  eager  to 
see  more  of  your  Prefaces  to  the  Poets :  1  solace  myself 
with  the  few  proof-sheets  which  1  have. 

"  I  send  another  parcel  of  Lord  Hailes's  '  Annals,* 
which  you  will  please  to  return  to  me  as  soon  as  you 
conveniently  can.  He  says,  '  he  wishes  you  would 
cut  a  little  deeper ;'  but  he  may  be  proud  that  there  is 
so  little  occasion  to  use  the  critical  knife.  I  ever  am, 
my  dear  Sir, 

"  Your  faithful  and  affectiojiate, 
"  humble  servant, 

"  James  Boswell.** 

Mr.  Langton  has  been  pleased,  at  my  request,  to  fa- 
vour me  with  some  particulars  of  Dr.  Johnson's  visit 
to  Warley-camp,  where  this  gentleman  was  at  the  time 
stationed  as  a  Captain  in  the  Lincolnshire  militia,  I 
shall  give  them  in  his  own  words  in  a  letter  to  me. 

"It  was  in  the  summer  of  the  year  1778,  that  he 
complied  with  my  invitation  to  come  down  to  the 
Camp  at  Warley,  and  he  staid  with  me  about  a  week  ; 


70  THE    LIFE    OF 

1778.  the  scene  appeared,  notwithstanding  a  great  degree  of 
2J^  ill  health  that  he  seemed  to  labour  under,  to  interest 
69,  *  and  amuse  him,  as  agreeing  with  the  disposition  that  I 
beheve  you  know  he  constantly  manifested  towards 
enquiring  into  subjects  of  the  military  kind.  He  sate, 
with  a  patient  degree  of  attention,  to  observe  the  pro- 
ceedings of  a  regimental  court-martial,  that  happened 
to  be  called,  in  the  time  of  his  stay  with  us  ;  and  one 
night,  as  late  as  at  eleven  o'clock,  he  accompanied  the 
Major  of  the  regiment  in  going  what  are  styled  the 
Rounds,  where  he  might  observe  the  forms  of  visiting 
the  guards,  for  the  seeing  that  they  and  their  sentries 
are  ready  in  their  duty  on  their  several  posts.  He 
took  occasion  to  converse  at  times  on  military  topicks, 
one  in  particular,  that  1  see  the  mention  of,  in  your 
*  Journal  of  a  Tour  to  the  Hebrides,^  which  lies  open 
before  me,''  as  to  gun-powder;  which  be  spoke  of  to 
the  same  effect,  in  part,  that  you  relate. 

"  On  one  occasion,  when  the  regiment  were  going 
through  their  exercise,,  he  went  quite  close  to  the  men 
at  one  of  the  extremities  of  it,  and  watched  all  their 
practices  attentively  ;  and,  when  he  came  away,  his 
remark  was,  *  The  men  indeed  do  load  their  muskets 
and  fire  with  wonderful  celerity.'  He  was  likewise 
particular  in  requiring  to  know  what  was  the  weight  of 
the  musket  balls  in  use,  and  within  what  (Hstance  they 
might  be  expected  to  take  effect  when  fired  off. 

"  In  walking  among  the  tents,  and  observing  the 
difference  between  those  of  the  officers  and  private 
men,  he  said,  that  the  superiority  of  accommodation  of 
the  better  conditions  of  life,  to  that  of  the  inferiour 
ones,  was  never  exhibited  to  him  in  so  distinct  a  view. 
The  civilities  paid  to  him  in  the  camp  were,  from  the 
gentlemen  of  the  Lincolnshire  regiment,  one  of  the 
officers  of  which  accommodated  him  with  a  tent  in 
which  he  slept  ;  and  from  General  Hall,  who  very 
courteously  invited  him  to  dine  with  him,  where  he 
appeared  to  be  very  well  pleased  with  his  entertain- 
ment, and  the  civilities  he  received  on  the  part  of  the 

'  Third  Edition,  p.  in. 


DR.   JOHNSON.  71 

General  ;^   the  attention  likewise  of  the  General's  aid-  i778. 
de-camp,  Captain  Smith,  seemed  to  be  very  welcome  ^EtaT. 
to  him,   as  appeared  by  their  engaging  in  a  great  deal    69.* 
of  discourse  together.     The   gentlemen   of  the    East 
York  regiment  likewise  on  being  informed  of  his  com- 
ing, solicited  his  company  at  dinner,  but  by  that  time 
he  had  fixed  his  departure,  so  that  he  could  not  com- 
ply with  the  invitation." 

"  to  james  boswell,  esq. 
"sir, 

"  I  HAVE  received  two  letters  from  you,  of  which 
the  second  complains  of  the  neglect  shown  to  the  first. 
You  must  not  tie  your  friends  to  such  punctual  corres- 
pondence. You  have  all  possible  assurances  of  my  af- 
fection and  esteem  ;  and  there  ought  to  be  no  need  of 
reiterated  professions.  When  it  may  happen  that  I 
can  give  you  either  counsel  or  comfort,  I  hope  it  will 
never  happen  to  me  that  I  should  neglect  you  ;  but 
you  must  not  think  me  criminal  or  cold,  if  I  say  noth- 
ing when  I  have  nothing  to  say. 

"  You  are  now  happy  enough.  Mrs.  Boswell  is  re- 
covered ;  and  I  congratulate  you  upon  the  probability 
of  her  long  life.  If  general  approbation  will  add  any 
thing  to  your  enjoyment,  I  can  tell  you  that  I  have 
heard  you  mentioned  as  a  man  whom  ezerij  body  likes, 
I  think  life  has  little  more  to  give. 

" has  gone  to  his  regiment.     He  has  laid 

down  his  coach,  and  talks  of  making  more  contractions 
of  his  expence  :  how  he  will  succeed,  1  know  not.  It 
is  difficult  to  reform  a  household  gradually  ;  it  may  be 
better  done  by  a  system  totally  new.  I  am  afraid  he 
has  always  something  to  hide.     When  we  pressed  him 

to  go  to ,  he  objected  the  necessity  of  attending 

his  navigation  ;  yet  he  could  talk  of  going  to  Aber- 
deen, a  place  not  much  nearer  his  navigation.  I  be- 
lieve he  cannot  bear  the  thought  of  living  at in 

a  state  of  diminution  ;  and  of  appearing  among  the 
gentlemen  of  the  neighbourhood  shot^n  of  his  beams. 

^  When  I  one  day  at  Court  expressed  to  General  Hall  my  sense  of  the  hoaour 
h$  had  done  my  friend,  he  politely  answered,  "  Sir,  I  did  myiel/hooour" 


72  THE    LIFE    OF 

1778.  This  is  natural,  but  it  is  cowardly.     Wliat  I  told  hira 

2J^  of  the  increasing  expence  of  a  growing  family,  seems  to 

69.    have  struck  him.     He  certainly  had  gone  on  with  very 

confused  views,  and  we  have,  I  think,  shown  him  that 

he  is  wrong  ;  though,  with  the  common  deficience  of 

advisers,  we  have  not  shown  him  how  to  do  right. 

"  I  wish  you  would  a  little  correct  or  restrain  your 
imagination,  and  imagine  that  happiness,  such  as  life 
admits,  may  be  had  at  other  places  as  well  as  London. 
Without  asserting  Stoicism,*  it  may  be  said,  that  it  is 
our  business  to  exempt  ourselves  as  much  as  we  can 
from  the  power  of  external  things.  There  is  but  one 
solid  basis  of  happiness  :  and  that  is,  the  reasonable 
hope  of  a  happy  futurity.  This  may  be  had  every 
where. 

"  I  do  not  blame  your  preference  of  London  to  other 
places,  for  it  is  really  to  be  preferred,  if  the  choice  is 
free  ;  but  few  have  the  choice  of  their  place,  or  their 
manner  of  life  ;  and  mere  pleasure  ought  not  to  be  the 
prime  motive  of  action. 

"  Mrs.  Thrale,  poor  thmg,  has  a  daughter.      Mr. 
Thrale  dislikes  the  times,  like   the  rest  of  us.     Mrs. 
Williams  is  sick  ;  Mrs.   Desmoulins  is  poor.     I  have 
miserable  nights.     Nobody  is  well  but  Mr.  Levet. 
"  I  am,  dear  Sir, 

"  Your  most,  &c. 

*'  London,  July  3,  1778.  "  Sam.  Johnson." 

In  the  course  of  this  year  there  was  a  difference  be- 
tween him  and  his  friend  Mr.  Strahan  ;  the  particulars 
of  which  it  is  unnecessary  to  relate.  Their  reconcilia- 
tion was  communicated  to  me  in  a  letter  from  Mr. 
Strahan  in  the  following  words  : 

"  The  notes  I  shewed  you  that  past  between  him 
and  me  were  dated  in  March  last.  The  matter  lay 
dormant  till  July  27,  when  he  wrote  to  me  as  follows  : 

"  [I  suspect  that  tliis  is  a  misprint,  and  that  Johnson  wrote  "  without  affecting 
stoicism  ;" — but  the  original  letter  being  burned  in  a  mass  of  papers  in  Scotland, 
I  have  not  been  able  to  ascertain  whether  my  conjecture  is  well  founded  or  not. 
The  expression  in  the  text,  however,  may  be  justified.    M.] 


DR.   JOHNSON.  73' 

1778. 


"  to   WILLIAM    STRAHAN,  ESQ. 

c  iEtat. 

^^«'  69. 

'  It  would  be  very  foolish  for  us  to  continue 
strangers  any  longer.  You  can  never  by  persistency 
make  wrong  right.  If  I  resented  too  acrimoniously,  I 
resented  only  to  yourself.  Nobody  ever  saw  or  heard 
what  [  wrote.  You  saw  that  my  anger  was  over,  for 
in  a  day  or  two  1  came  to  your  house.  I  have  given 
you  a  longer  time  ;  and  I  hope  you  have  made  so  good 
use  of  it,  as  to  be  no  longer  on  evil  terms  with,  Sir, 

'  Your,  &c. 

'  Sam.  Johnson.* 

"  On  this  I  called  upon  him  :  and  he  has  since  dined 
with  me." 

After  this  time,  the  same  friendship  as  formerly  con- 
tinued between  Dr.  Johnson  and  Mr.  Strahan.  My 
friend  mentioned  to  me  a  little  circumstance  of  his  at- 
tention, which,  though  we  may  smile  at  it,  must  be 
allowed  to  have  its  foundation  in  a  nice  and  true 
knowledge  of  human  life.  "  VVhen  I  write  to  Scot- 
land, (said  he,)  I  employ  Strahan  to  frank  my  letters, 
that  he  may  have  the  consequence  of  appearing  a  Par- 
liament-man among  his  countrymen." 

"  TO  CAPTAIN  LANGTON,^     WARLEY-CAMP. 
"  DEAR  SIR, 

"  When  1  recollect  how  long  ago  I  was  received 
with  so  much  kindness  at  Warley  Common,  I  am 
ashamed  that  I  have  not  made  some  enquiries  after  my 
friends. 

"Fray  how  many  sheep-stealers  did  you  convict  ? 
and  how  did  you  punish  them  ?  When  are  you  to  be 
cantoned  in  better  habitations  ?  The  air  grows  cold, 
and  the  ground  damp.     Longer  stay  in  the  camp  can- 

*■  Dr.  Johnson  here  addresses  his  worthy  friend,  Bennet  Langton,  Esq.  by  his 
title  as  Captain  of  the  Lincolnshire  militia,  in  which  he  has  since  been  most  deserv- 
edly raised  to  the  rank  of  Major. 

VO!-.   III.  10 


7-i  THE    LIFE    OF 

1778.  not  be  without  much  danger  to  the  health  of  the  com- 
•^^^mon  men,  if  even  the  officers  can  escape. 
69.        "  You  see  that  Dr.  Percy  is  now  Dean  of  Carlisle  ; 
about  five  hundred  a  year,  with  a  power  of  presenting 
himself  to  some  good  living.     He  is  provided  for. 

"  The  session  of  the  Club  is  to  commence  with  that 
of  the  parliament.  Mr.  Banks  desires  to  be  admitted  ; 
he  will  be  a  very  honourable  accession. 

"  Did  the  King  please  you  ?  The  Coxheath  men,  I 
think,  have  some  reason  to  complain  :  Reynolds  says 
your  camp  is  better  than  theirs. 

*'  I  hope  you  find  yourself  able  to  encounter  this 
weather.  Take  care  of  your  own  health  ;  and,  as  you 
can  of  your  men.  Be  pleased  to  make  my  compli- 
ments to  all  the  gentlemen  whose  notice  I  have  had, 
and  whose  kindness  I  have  experienced. 
"  I  am,  dear  Sir, 

"  Your  most  humble  servant, 
"  October  31,  177S.  "  Sam.  Johnson/' 

I  wrote  to  him  on  the  1 8th  of  August,  the  18th  of 
September,  and  the  6th  of  November  ;  informing  him 
of  my  having  had  another  son  born,  whom  I  had  called 
James  ;  that  I  had  passed  some  time  at  Auchinleck  ; 
that  the  Countess  of  Loudoun,  now  in  her  ninety-ninth 
year,  was  as  fresh  as  when  he  saw  her,  and  remember- 
ed him  with  respect  ;  and  that  his  mother  by  adop- 
tion, the  Countess  of  Eglintoune,  had  said  to  me, 
"  Tell  Mr.  Johnson  1  love  hirti  exceedingly  ;"  that  I 
had  again  suffered  much  from  bad  spirits  ;  and  that  as 
it  was  very  long  since  I  heard  from  him,  I  was  not  a 
little  uneasy. 

The  continuance  of  his  regard  for  his  friend  Dr.  Bur- 
ney,  appears  from  the  following  letters  : 

"  TO  THE  REVEREND  DR.  WHEELER,  OXFORD. 
"  DEAR  SIR, 

"  Dr.  Burney,  who  brings  this  paper,  is  engaged 
in  a  History  of  Musick ;  and  having  been  told  by  Dr. 
Markham  of  some  MSS.  relating  to  his  subject,  which 


<i 


DR.   JOHNSON. 

are  in  the  library  of  your  College,  is  desirous  to  exam-  1778. 
ine  them.     He  is  my  friend  ;  and  therefore  I  take  the  ^^ 
liberty  of  entreating  your  favour  and  assistance  in  his  69. 
enquiry :  and  can  assure  you,  with   great  confidence, 
that  if  you  knew  him  he  would  not  want  any  interven- 
ient  solicitation  to  obtain  the  kindness  of  one  who  loves 
learning  and  virtue  as  you  love  them. 

"  1  have  been  flattering  myself  ail  the  summer  with 
the  hope  of  paying  my  annual  visit  to  my  friends  ;  but 
something  has  obstructed  me  :  I  still  hope  not  to  be 
long  without  seeing  you.  I  should  be  glad  of  a  lit- 
tle literary  talk  ;  and  glad  to  shew  you,  by  the  frequen- 
cy of  my  visits,  how  eagerly  I  love  it,  when  you  talk  it. 

"  1  am,  dear  Sir, 
"  Your  most  humble  servant, 

"  London^  IVovember  2,  1778.         "  Sam.  Johnson." 

"  TO  THE  REVEREND  DR.    EDWARDS,  OXFORD. 
"  SIR, 

"  The  bearer.  Dr.  Burney,  has  had  some  account 
of  a  Welsh  Manuscript  in  the  Bodleian  library,  from 
which  he  hopes  to  gain  some  materials  for  his  History 
of  Musick  ;  but  being  ignorant  of  the  language,  is  at  a 
loss  where  to  find  assistance.  I  make  no  doubt  but 
you.  Sir,  can  help  him  through  his  difficulties,  and  there- 
fore take  the  liberty  of  recommending  him  to  your  fa- 
vour, as  I  am  sure  you  will  find  him  a  man  worthy  of 
every  civility  that  can  be  shewn,  and  every  benefit  that 
can  be  conferred. 

"  But  we  must  not  let  Welsh  drive  us  from  Greek. 
What  comes  of  Xenophon  ?  If  you  do  not  like  the  trou- 
ble of  publishing  the  book,  do  not  let  your  commenta- 
ries be  lost  ;  contrive  that  they  may  be  published 
somewhere. 

"  I  am.  Sir, 

"  Your  humble  servant, 
"  London,  November  2,  1778.  "  Sam.  Johnson." 

These  letters  procured  Dr.  Burney  great  kindness 
and  friendly  offices  from  both  of  these  gentlemen,  not 


76  THE    LIFE    OF 

1778.  only  on  that  occasion,  but  in  future  visits  to  the  univei- 

£^  sity.     The  same  year  Dr.  Johnson  not  only  wrote  to 

69.    Dr.  Joseph  Warton  in  favour  of  Dr.  Burney's  youngest 

son,  who  was  to  be  placed  in  the  college  of  Winchester, 

but  accompanied  him  when  he  went  thither. 

We  surely  cannot  but  admire  the  benevolent  exer- 
tions of  this  great  and  good  man,  especially  when  we 
consider  how  grievously  he  was  afflicted  with  bad  health, 
and  how  uncomfortable  his  home  was  made  by  the  per- 
petual jarring  of  those  whom  he  charitably  accommo- 
dated under  his  roof.  He  has  sometimes  suffered  me 
to  talk  jocularly  of  his  group  of  females,  and  call  them 
his  Seraglio.  He  thus  mentions  them,  together  with 
honest  Levet,  in  one  of  his  letters  to  Mrs.  Thrale  :* 
"  Williams  hates  every  body  :  Levet  hates  Desmoulins, 
and  does  not  love  Williams  ;  Desmoulins  hates  them 
both  ;  Poll  7  loves  none  of  them." 

"  TO  JAMES  BOSWELL,  ESQ. 
"  DEAR  SIR, 

"  It  is  indeed  a  long  time  since  I  wrote,  and  think 
you  have  some  reason  to  complain  ;  however  you  must 
not  let  small  things  disturb  you,  when  you  have  such  a 
fine  addition  to  your  happiness  as  a  new  boy,  and  1  hope 
your  lady's  health  restored  by  bringing  him.  It  seems 
very  probable  that  a  little  care  will  now  restore  her,  if 
any  remains  of  her  complaints  are  left. 

"  You  seem,  if  I  understand  your  letter,  to  be  gain- 
ing ground  at  Auchinleck,  an  incident  that  would  give 

me  great  delight. 

****** 

"  When  any  fit  of  anxiety,  or  gloominess,  or  perver- 
sion of  mind,  lays  hold  upon  you,  make  it  a  rule  not  to 
publish  it  by  complaints,  but  exert  your  whole  care  to 
hide  it ;  by  endeavouring  to  hide  it,  you  will  drive  it 
away.     Be  always  busy. 

"  The  Club  is  to  meet  with  the  parliament ;  we  talk 
of  electing  Banks,  the  traveller  ;  he  will  be  a  reputable 
member. 

'  Vol.  ii.  page  38  Miss  Carmichael 


DR.    JOHNSON.  // 

"  Langton  has  been  encamped  with  his  company  of  '778. 
miUtia  on  Warley  Common  ;  1  spent  five  days  amongst  ^^ 
them  ;  he  signalized   himself  as  a  diligent  officer,  and   69. 
has  very  high   respect  in  the  regiment.     He  presided 
when  I  was  there  at  a  court-martial ;  he  is  now  quar- 
tered in  Hertfordshire ;  his  lady  and  little  ones  are  in 
Scotland.     Paoli  came  to  the  camp,  and  commended 
the  soldiers. 

"  Of  myself  I  have  no  great  matters  to  say,  my  health 
is  not  restored,  my  nights  are  restless  and  tedious.  The 
best  night  that  1  have  had  these  twenty  years  was  at 
Fort-Augustus. 

"  1  hope  soon  to  send  you  a  few  lives  to  read. 
"  1  am,  dear  Sir, 

"  Your  most  affectionate, 
'^November  21,  1778.  "  Sam.  Johnson." 

About  this  time  the  Rev.  Mr.  John  Hussey,  who 
had  been  some  time  in  trade,  and  was  then  a  clergyman 
of  the  church  of  England,  being  about  to  undertake  a 
journey  to  Aleppo,  and  other  parts  of  the  East,  which 
he  accomplished.  Dr.  Johnson,  (who  had  long  been  in 
habits  of  intimacy  with  him,)  honoured  him  with  the 
following  letter  : 

"  TO  MR.  JOHN  HUSSEY. 
"  DEAR  SIR, 

"  I  HAVE  sent  you  the  '  Grammar,'  and  have  left 
you  two  books  more,  by  which  I  hope  to  be  remember- 
ed :  write  my  name   in  them ;  we  may  perhaps  see 
each  other  no  more,  you  part  with  my  good  wishes, 
nor  do  1  despair  of  seeing  you  return.     Let  no  oppor- 
tunities of  vice  corrupt  you  ;  let  no  bad  example  se- 
duce you  ;  let  the  blindness  of  Mahometans  confirm 
you  in  Christianity.     God  bless  you. 
"  I  am,  dear  Sir, 
"  Your  affectionate  humble  servant, 
"  December  29,  1778.  "Sam.  Johnson." 

Johnson  this  year  expressed  great  satisfaction  at  the 
publication  of  the  first  volume  of  "  Discourses  to  the 


78  THE    LIFE    OF 

177P  Royal  Academy,"  by  Sir  Joshua  Reynolds,  whom  he 
^J^  always  considered  as  one  of  his  literary  school.  Much 
70.  praise  indeed  is  due  to  those  excellent  Discourses, 
which  are  so  universally  admired,  and  for  which  the 
authour  received  from  the  Empress  of  Russia  a  gold 
^nufF-box,  adorned  with  her  profile  in  bas  reliefs  set  in 
diamonds  ;  and  containing  what  is  infinitely  more  val- 
uable, a  slip  of  paper,  on  which  are  written  with  her 
Imperial  Majesty's  own  hand,  the  following  words  : 
"  Pour  le  Chevalier  Retjnolds  en  temoignage  du  con- 
tentement  quefai  ressentie  d  la  lecture  de  ses  excellens 
discours  sur  la  peiniure^' 

This  year,  Johnson  gave  the  world  a  luminous  proof 
that  the  vigour  of  his  mind  in  all  its  faculties,  whether 
memory,  judgement,  or  imagination,  was  not  in  the 
least  abated  ;  for  this  year  came  out  the  first  four  vol- 
umes of  his  "  Prefaces,  biographical  and  critical,  to  the 
most  eminent  of  the  EngHsh  Poets,"*  published  by  the 
booksellers  of  London.  The  remaining  volumes  came 
out  in  the  year  1780.  The  Poets  were  selected  by  the 
several  booksellers  who  had  the  honorary  copy  right, 
which  is  still  preserved  among  them  by  mutual  com- 
pact, notwithstanding  the  decision  of  the  House  of 
Lords  against  the  perpetuity  of  Literary  Property.  We 
have  his  own  authority,^  that  by  his  recommendation 
the  poems  of  Blackmore,  Watts,  Pomfret,  and  Yalden, 
were  added  to  the  collection.  Of  this  work  1  shall 
speak  more  particularly  hereafter. 

On  the  2';2d  of  January,  I  wrote  to  him  on  several 
topicks,  and  mentioned  that  as  he  had  been  so  good  as 
to  permit  me  to  have  the  proof  sheets  of  his  "  Lives  of 
the  Poets,"  I  had  written  to  his  servant,  Francis,  to 
take  care  of  them  for  me. 

"  MR.  BOSWELL  TO  DR.  JOHNSON. 

"  MY  DEAR  SIR,  ''^  Edinburgh.,  Feb.  2,  1779- 

"  Garrick's   death  is  a  striking  event ;  not  that 
we  should  be  surprized  with  the  death  of  any  man,  who 

8  Life  of  Watts. 


DR.    JOHNSON.  79 

has  lived  sixty-two  years  ;^  but  because  there  was  a  vi-  '779. 
vaciti/  in  our  late  celebrated  friend,   wliich  drove  away  ^^ 
the  thoughts  of  death  from  any  association  with  him.    1    70. 
am  sure  you  will  be  tenderly  affected  with  his  depart- 
ure ;  and  1  would  wish  to  hear  from  you  upon  the  sub- 
ject.    I  was  obliged  to  him  in  my  days  of  effervescence 
in  London,  when  poor  Derrick  was  my  governour  ;  and 
since  that  time  1  received  many  civilities  from  him. 
Do  you  remember  how  pleasing  it  was,  when  I  receiv- 
ed a  letter  from  him  at  Inverary,   upon   our  first  return 
to  civilized  living  after  our  Hebridean  journey.     I  shall 
always  remember  him  with  affection   as  well  as  admi- 
ration. 

"  On  Saturday  last,  being  the  30th  of  January,  I 
drank  coffee  and  old  port,  and  had  solemn  conversa- 
tion with  the  Reverend  Mr.  Falconer,  a  nonjuring 
bishop,  a  very  learned  and  worthy  man.  He  gave  two 
toasts,  which  you  will  believe  1  drank  with  cordiality. 
Dr.  Samuel  Johnson,  and  Flora  Macdonald.  1  sat  about 
four  hours  with  him,  and  it  was  really  as  if  I  had  been 
living  in  the  last  century.  The  Episcopal  Church  of 
Scotland,  though  faithful  to  the  royal  house  of  Stuart, 
has  never  accepted  of  any  cojige  d^eiire,  since  the  Rev- 
olution ;  it  is  the  only  true  Episcopal  Church  in  Scot- 
land, as  it  has  its  own  succession  of  bishops.  For  as 
to  the  episcopal  clergy  who  take  the  oaths  to  the  pres- 
ent government,  they  indeed  follow  the  rites  of  the 
Church  of  England,  but,  as  Bishop  Falconer  observed, 
'  they  are  not  Episcopal ;  for  they  are  under  no  bish- 
op, as  a  bishop  cannot  have  authority  beyond  his  dio- 
cese.' This  venerable  gentleman  did  me  the  honour  to 
dine  with  me  yesterday,  and  he  laid  his  hands  upon  the 
heads  of  my  little  ones.  We  had  a  good  deal  of  curious 
literary  conversation,  particularly  about  Mr.  Thomas 
Ruddiman,  with  whom  he  lived  in  great  friendship. 

"  Any  fresh  instance  of  the  uncertainty  of  life  makes 
one  embrace  more  closely  a  valuable  friend.     My  dear 

'  [On  Mr.  Garrick's  Monument  in  Lichfield  Cathedral,  he  is  said  to  have  died, 
"  aged  64  years."  But  it  is  a  mistake,  and  Mr.  Boswell  is  perfectly  correct.  Gar- 
rick  was  baptized  at  Hereford,  Feb.  28,  1716-17  and  died  at  his  house  in  London, 
Jan.  20, 1779.    The  inaccuracy  of  lapidary  inscriptions  is  well  known.    M.] 


80  THE    LIFE    OF 

1779.  and  much  respected  Sir,  may  God  preserve  you  long 
2^  in  this  world  while  I  am  in  it. 
70.  "  I  am  ever, 

"  Your  much  obliged, 
"  And  affectionate  humble  servant, 

"  James  Boswell/' 

On  the  23d  of  February  I  wrote  to  him  again,  com- 
plaining of  his  silence,  as  1  had  heard  he  was  ill,  and 
had  written  to  Mr.  Thrale  for  information  concerning 
him ;  and  1  announced  my  intention  of  soon  being 
again  in  London. 

"  TO  JAMES  BOSWELL,  ESQ. 
"  DEAR  SIR, 

"  Why  should  you  take  such  delight  to  make  a 
bustle,  to  write  to  Mr.  Thrale  that  1  am  negligent,  and 
to  Francis  to  do  what  is  so  very  unnecessary.  Thrale, 
you  may  be  sure,  cared  not  about  it ;  and  1  shall  spare 
Francis  the  trouble,  by  ordering  a  set  both  of  the  Lives 
and  Poets  to  dear  Mrs.  Boswell, '  in  acknowledgement 
of  her  marmalade.  Persuade  her  to  accept  them,  and 
accept  them  kindly.  If  I  thought  she  would  receive 
them  scornfully,  1  would  send  them  to  Miss  Boswell, 
who,  1  hope,  has  yet  none  of  her  mamma's  ill-will  to  me. 
"  I  would  send  sets  of  Lives,  four  volumes,  to  some 
other  friends,  to  Lord  Hailes  first.  His  second  volume 
lies  by  my  bed-side  ;  a  book  stirely  of  great  labour, 
and  to  every  just  thinker  of  great  delight.  Write  me 
word  to  whom  I  shall  send  besides  ;  would  it  please 
Lord  Auchinleck  ?  Mrs.  Thrale  waits  in  the  coach. 
"  I  am,  dear  Sir,  &c. 
"  March  13,  1779-  "  Sam.  Johnson." 

This  letter  crossed  me  on  the  road  to  London,  where 
I  arrived  on  Monday,  March  15,  and  next  morning  at 
a  late  hour,  found  Dr.  Johnson  sitting  over  his  tea, 
attended   by   Mrs.  Desmoulins,  Mr.  Levet,  and  a  cler- 

'  He  sent  a  set  elegantly  bound  and  gilt,  which  was  received  as  a  very  handsomp 
present. 


DR.   JOHNSON.  81 

gyman,  who  had  come  to  submit  some  poetical  pieces  ^79. 
to  his  revision.  It  is  wonderful  what  a  number  and  JJ^ 
variety  of  writers,  some  of  them  even  unknown  to  him,  70.  * 
prevailed  on  his  good-nature  to  look  over  their  works, 
and  suggest  corrections  and  improvements.  My  arrival 
interrupted  for  a  httle  while,  the  important  business  of 
this  true  representative  of  Bayes  ;  upon  its  being  re- 
sumed, 1  found  that  the  subject  under  immediate  con- 
.sideration  was  a  translation,  yet  in  manuscript,  of  the 
Carmen  Seculare  of  Horace,  which  had  this  year  been 
set  to  musick,  and  performed  as  a  publick  entertain- 
ment in  London,  for  the  joint  benefit  of  Monsieur 
Philidor  and  Signor  Baretti.  When  Johnson  had  done 
reading,  the  authour  asked  him  bluntly,  "  If  upon  the 
whole  it  was  a  good  translation  1"  Johnson,  whose 
regard  for  truth  was  uncommonly  strict,  seemed  to  be 
puzzled  for  a  moment,  what  answer  to  make  ;  as  he 
certainly  could  not  honestly  commend  the  perform- 
ance :  with  exquisite  address  he  evaded  the  question 
thus,  "  Sir,  I  do  not  say  that  it  may  not  be  made  a 
very  good  translation."  Here  nothing  whatever  in 
favour  of  the  performance  was  affirmed,  and  yet  the 
writer  was  not  shocked.  A  printed  "  Ode  to  the 
Warlike  Genius  of  Britain,"  came  next  in  review  ;  the 
bard  was  a  lank  bony  figure,  with  short  black  hair  ;  he 
was  writhing  himself  in  agitation,  while  Johnson  read, 
and  shewing  his  teeth  in  a  grin  of  earnestness,  exclaim- 
ed in  broken  sentences,  and  in  a  keen  sharp  tone,  "  Is 
that  poetry,  Sir  ] — Is  it  Pindar  ?"  Johnson.  "  Why, 
Sir,  there  is  here  a  great  deal  of  what  is  called  poetry." 
Then,  turning  to  me,  the  poet  cried,  "  My  muse  has 
not  been  long  upon  the  town,  and  (pointing  to  the 
Ode)  it  trembles  under  the  hand  of  the  great  critick." 
Johnson,  in  a  tone  of  displeasure,  asked  him,  "  Why 
do  you  praise  Anson  ?"  I  did  not  trouble  him  by  ask- 
ing his  reason  for  this  question.  He  proceeded, 
"  Here  is  an  errour.  Sir  ;  you  have  made  Genius  fem- 
inine."— "  Palpable,  Sir  ;  (cried  the  enthusiast)  1  know 
it.  But  (in  a  lower  tone)  it  was  to  pay  a  compliment 
to  the  Duchess  of  Devonshire,  with  which  her  Grace 
was  pleased.  She  is  walking  across  Coxheath,  in  the 
VOL.  iir.  11 


82  THE    LIFE    OF 

1779.  military  uniform,  and  I  suppose  her  to  be  the  Genius 

^J^  of  Britain."     Johnson.  "  Sir,  you  are  giving  a  reason 

70.    for  it,;  but  that  will  not  make  it  right.     You  may  have 

a  reason  why  two  and  two  should  make  five  ;  but  they 

will  still  make  but  four." 

Although  1  was  several  times  with  him  in  the  course 
of  the  following  days,  such  it  seems  were  my  occupa- 
tions, or  such  my  negligence,  that  I  have  preserved  no 
memorial  of  his  conversation  till  Friday,  March  26, 
when  I  visited  him.  He  said  he  expected  to  be  at- 
tacked on  account  of  his  "  Lives  of  the  Poets." 
"  However  (said  he)  1  would  rather  be  attacked  than 
unnoticed.  For  the  worst  thing  you  can  do  to  an  au- 
thour  is  to  be  silent  as  to  his  works.  An  assault  upon 
a  town  is  a  bad  thing  ;  but  starving  it  is  still  worse  ; 
an  assault  may  be  unsuccessful  ;  you  may  have  more 
men  killed  than  you  kill  ;  but  if  you  starve  the  town, 
you  are  sure  of  victory." 

Talking  of  a  friend  of  ours  associating  with  persons 
of  very  discordant  principles  and  characters  ;  I  said  he 
was  a  very  universal  man,  quite  a  man  of  the  world. 
Johnson.  "  Yes,  Sir ;  but  one  may  be  so  much  a  man 
of  the  world,  as  to  be  nothing  in  the  world.  I  remem- 
ber a  passage  in  Goldsmith's  '  Vicar  of  Wakefield,' 
which  he  was  afterwards  fool  enough  to  expunge  :  '  I 
do  not  love  a  man  who  is  zealous  for  nothing."  Bos- 
well.  "  That  was  a  fine  passage."  Johnson.  "  Yes, 
Sir  :  there  was  another  fine  passage  too,  which  he 
struck  out :  '  When  I  was  a  young  man,  being  anxious 
to  distinguish  myself,  1  was  perpetually  starting  new 
propositions.  But  I  soon  gave  this  over  :  for,  1  found 
that  generally  what  was  new  was  false."-  I  said  1  did 
not  like  to  sit  with  people  of  whom  I  had  not  a  good 
opinion.     Johnson.  "  But  you  must  not  indulge  your 


-  [Dr.  Eurney  in  a  note  introduced  in  a  former  page  has  mentioned  this  circum- 
btance,  concerning  Goldsmith,  as  communicated  to  him  by  Dr.  Johnson  ;  not  re- 
collecting that  it  occurred  here.  His  remark,  however,  is  not  wholly  superfluous, 
as  it  ascertains  that  the  words  which  Goldsmith  had  put  into  the  mouth  of  a  ficti- 
tious character  in  "  The  Vicar  of  Wakefield,"  and  which  as  we  learn  from  Dr.  Jolm- 
son  he  afterwards  expunged,  related,  like  many  other  passages  in  his  Novel,  to 
himself.    M.] 


DR.    JOHNSON.  83 

delicacy  too  much  ;  or  you  will  be  a  fSfe-d-t^te  man  all  i779. 
your  life."  ^^ 

During  my  stay  in  London  this  spring,  I  find  I  was  70. 
unaccountably  negligent  in  preserving  Johnson's  say- 
ings, more  so  than  at  any  time  when  I  was  happy 
enough  to  have  an  opportunity  of  hearing  his  wisdofn 
and  wit.  There  is  no  help  for  it  now.  I  must  content 
myself  with  presenting  such  scraps  as  I  have.  But  I 
am  nevertheless  ashamed  and  vexed  to  think  how  much 
has  been  lost.  It  is  not  that  there  was  a  bad  crop  this 
year  ;  but  that  I  was  not  sufficiently  careful  in  gather- 
ing it  in.  I,  therefore,  in  some  instances  can  only  ex- 
hibit a  few  detached  fragments. 

Talking  of  the  wonderful  concealment  of  the  authour 
of  the  celebrated  letters  signed  Junius ;  he  said,  I  should 
have  believed  Burke  to  be  Junius,  because  1  know  no 
man  but  Burke  who  is  capable  of  writing  these  letters  ; 
but  Burke  spontaneously  denied  it  to  me.  The  case 
would  have  been  different,  had  I  asked  him  if  he  was 
the  authour  ;  a  man  so  questioned,  as  to  an  anonymous 
publication,  may  think  he  has  a  right  to  deny  it.'' 

He  observed  that  his  old  friend,  Mr.  Sheridan,  had 
been  honoured  with  extraordinary  attention  in  his  own 
country,  by  having  had  an  exception  made  in  his  favour 
in  an  Irish  Act  of  Parliament  concerning  insolvent  debt- 
ors. "  Thus  to  be  singled  out  (said  he)  by  a  legislature, 
as  an  object  of  publick  consideration  and  kindness,  is  a 
proof  of  no  common  merit." 

At  Streatham,  on  Monday,  March  29,  at  breakfast, 
he  maintained  that  a  father  had  no  right  to  controul  the 
inclinations  of  his  daughters  in  marriage. 

On  Wednesday,  March  31,  when  1  visited  him,  and 
confessed  an  excess  of  which  I  had  very  seldom  been 
guilty:  that  I  had  spent  a  whole  night  in  playing  at 
cards,  and  that  I  could  not  look  back  on  it  with  satisfac- 
tion :  instead  of  a  harsh  animadversion,  he  mildly  said, 
"  Alas,  Sir,  on  how  few  things  can  we  look  back  with 
satisfaction." 

On  Thursd,ay,  April  1,  he  commended  one  of  the 
Dukes  of  Devonshire  for  "a  dogged  veracity." ^     He 

-  See  p.  434  of  Volume  II. 


84  THE    LIFE    OF 

1779.  said  too,  "  London  is  nothing  to  some  people  ;  but  tea 
man  whose  pleasure  is  intellectual,  London  is  the  place. 
And  there  is  no  place  where  economy  can  be  so  well 
practised  as  in  London  :  more  can  be  had  here  for  the 
money,  even  by  ladie  s,  than  any  where  else.  You  can- 
not play  tricks  with  your  fortune  in  a  small  place  ;  you 
must  make  an  uniform  appearance.  Here  a  lady  may 
have  well-furnished  apartments,  and  elegant  dress,  with- 
out any  meat  in  her  kitchen.'* 

1  was  amused  by  considering  with  how  much  ease 
and  coolness  he  could  write  or  talk  to  a  friend,  exhort- 
ing him  not  to  suppose  that  happiness  was  not  to  be 
found  as  well  in  other  places  as  in  London  ;  when  he 
himself  was  at  all  times  sensible  of  its  being,  compara- 
tively speaking,  a  heaven  upon  earth.  The  truth  is, 
that  by  those  who  from  sagacity,  attention,  and  experi- 
ence, have  learnt  the  full  advantage  of  London,  its  pre- 
eminence over  every  other  place,  not  only  for  variety  of 
enjoyment,  but  for  comfort,  will  be  felt  with  a  philosoph- 
ical exultation.  The  freedom  from  remark  and  petty 
censure,  with  which  life  may  be  passed  there,  is  a  cir- 
cumstance which  a  man  who  knows  the  teazing  restraint 
of  a  narrow  circle  must  relish  highly.  Mr.  Burke,  whose 
orderly  and  amiable  domestick  habits  might  make  the 
eye  of  observation  less  irksome  to  him  than  to  most  men, 
said  once  very  pleasantly,  in  my  hearing,  "  Though  I 
have  the  honour  to  represent  Bristol,  I  should  not  like 
to  live  there  ;  I  should  be  obliged  to  be  so  much  upo7i 
my  good  behaviour J'^  In  Lond6n,  a  man  may  live  in 
splendid  society  at  one  time,  and  in  frugal  retirement 
at  another,  without  animadversion.  There,  and  there 
alone,  a  man's  own  house  is  truly  his  castle^  in  which 
he  can  be  in  perfect  safety  from  intrusion  whenever  he 
pleases.  I  never  shall  forget  how  well  this  was  express- 
ed to  me  one  day  by  Mr.  Meynell :  "  The  chief  advan- 
tage of  London  (said  he)  is,  that  a  man  is  always  so  near 
his  burrow P 

He  said  of  one  of  his  old  acquaintances,  "  He  is  very 
fit  for  a  travelling  governour.  He  knows  French  very 
well.  He  is  a  man  of  good  principles  ;  and  there  would 
be  no  danger  that  a  young  gentleman  should  catch  his 


DR.    JOHNSON.  85 

manner  ;  for  it  is  so  very  bad,  that  it  must  be  avoided.  1779. 
In  that  respect  he  would  be  like  the  drunken  Helot."     "^^^ 

A  gentleman  has  informed  me,  that  Johnson  said  of  70. ' 
the  same  person,  "  Sir,  he  has  the  most  inverted  under- 
standing of  any  man  whom  1  have  ever  known." 

On  Friday,  April  2,  being  Good-Friday,  I  visited 
him  in  the  morning  as  usual ;  and  finding  that  we  in- 
sensibly fell  into  a  train  of  ridicule  upon  the  foibles  of 
one  of  our  friends,  a  very  worthy  man,  I,  by  way  of  a 
check,  quoted  some  good  admonition  from  "  The  Gov- 
ernment of  the  Tongue,"  that  very  pious  book.  It 
happened  also  remarkably  enough,  that  the  subject  of 
the  sermon  preached  to  us  to-day  by  Dr.  Burrows,  the 
rector  of  St.  Clement  Danes,  was  the  certainty  that  at 
the  last  day  we  must  give  an  account  of  "  the  deeds 
done  in  the  body  ;"  and  amongst  various  acts  of  culpa- 
bility he  mentioned  evil-speaking.  As  we  were  moving 
slowly  along  in  the  croud  from  church,  Johnson  jogged 
my  elbow,  and  said,  "Did  you  attend  to  the  sermon  ?" 
— "  Yes,  Sir,  (said  I,)  it  was  very  applicable  to  usP  He 
however,  stood  upon  the  defensive.  "  Why,  Sir,  the 
sense  of  ridicule  is  given  us,  and  may  be  lawfully  used. 
The  authour  of '  The  Government  of  the  Tongue'  would 
have  us  treat  all  men  alike." 

In  the  interval  between  morning  and  evening  service, 
he  endeavoured  to  employ  himself  earnestly  in  devo- 
tional exercise  ;  and,  as  he  has  mentioned  in  his 
"  Prayers  and  Meditations,"*  gave  me  "  Les  Pensees  de 
Paschal"  that  I  might  not  interrupt  him.  I  preserve 
the  book  with  reverence.  His  presenting  it  to  me  is 
marked  upon  it  with  his  own  hand,  and  I  have  found 
in  it  a  truly  divine  unction.  We  went  to  church  again 
in  the  afternoon. 

On  Saturday,  April  3,  I  visited  him  at  night,  and 
found  him  sitting  in  Mrs.  Williams's  room,  with  her, 
and  one  who  he  afterwards  told  me  was  a  natural  son^ 
of  the  second  Lord  Southwell.  The  table  had  a  singu- 
lar appearance,  being  covered  with  a  heterogeneous  as- 

"  Page  173. 

*  [Mr.  Mauritius  Lowe,  a  paiqter.    M] 


86  THE    LIFE    OF 

1779.  semblage  of  oysters  and  porter  for  his  company,  and  tea 
2J^  for  hinfiself.  I  mentioned  my  having  heard  an  eminent 
70.  physician,  who  was  himself  a  Christian,  argue  in  favour 
of  universal  toleration,  and  maintained,  that  no  man 
could  be  hurt  by  another  man's  differing  from  him  in 
opinion.  Johnson.  "  Sir,  you  are  to  a  certain  degree 
hurt  by  knowing  that  even  one  man  does  not  believe." 
On  Easter-day,  after  solemn  service  at  St.  PauPs,  I 
dined  with  him  :  Mr.  Allen  the  printer  was  also  his 
guest.  He  was  uncommonly  silent ;  and  1  have  not 
written  down  any  thing,  except  a  single  curious  fact, 
which,  having  the  sanction  of  his  inflexible  veracity, 
may  be  received  as  a  striking  instance  of  human  insen- 
sibility and  inconsideration.  As  he  was  passing  by  a 
fishmonger  who  was  skinning  an  eel  alive,  he  heard 
him  "  curse  it,  because  it  would  not  lye  still." 

On  Wednesday,  April  7,  1  dined  with  him  at  Sir 
Joshua  Reynolds's.  1  have  not  marked  what  company 
was  there.  Johnson  harangued  upon  the  qualities  of 
different  liquors  ;  and  spoke  with  great  contempt  of 
claret,  as  so  weak,  that  "  a  man  would  be  drowned  by 
it  before  it  made  him  drunk."  He  was  persuaded  to 
drink  one  glass  of  it,  that  he  might  judge,  not  from 
recollection,  which  might  be  dim,  but  from  immediate 
sensation.  He  shook  his  head,  and  said,  "  Poor  stuff! 
No,  Sir,  claret  is  the  liquor  for  boys  ;  port  for  men  ; 
but  he  who  aspires  to  be  a  hero  (smiling)  must  drink 
brandy.  In  the  first  place,  the  flavour  of  brandy  is 
most  grateful  to  the  palate  ;  and  then  brandy  will  do 
soonest  for  a  man  what  drinking  can  do  for  him.  There 
are,  indeed,  few  who  are  able  to  drink  brandy.  That 
is  a  power  rather  to  be  wished  for  than  attained.  And 
yet,  (proceeded  he)  as  in  all  pleasure  hope  is  a  consid- 
erable part,  1  know  not  but  fruition  comes  too  quick 
by  brandy.  Florence  wine  I  think  the  worst  ;  it  is 
wine  only  to  the  eye  ;  it  is  wine  neither  while  you  are 
drinking  it,  nor  after  you  have  drunk  it  ;  it  neither 
pleases  the  taste,  nor  exhilarates  the  spirits."  I  re- 
minded him  how  heartily  he  and  1  used  to  drink  wine 
together,  when  we  were  first  acquainted  ;  and  how  I 
used  to  have  a  head-ache  after  sitting  up  with  him. 


DR.   JOHNSON.  87 

He  did  not  like  to  have  this  recalled,  or,  perhaps,  think-  1779- 
ing  that  I  boasted  improperly,  resolved  to  have  a  witty  ^J^ 
stroke  at  me  ;  "  Nay,  Sir,   it   was  not  the  zvlne  that    70.  * 
made  your  head  ache,  but  the  sense  that  I  put  into  it.'^ 
Bos  WELL.   "  What,  Sir  !    will  sense  make   the  head 
ache?"     JoHNS-ON.    "  Yes,  Sir,  (with  a  smile)  when  it 
is  not  used  to  it." — No  man  who  has  a  true  relish  of 
pleasantry   could  be  offended   at   this  ;   especially   if 
Johnson  in  a  long  intimacy  had  given  him  repeated 
proofs  of  his  regard  and  good   estimation.     I  used  to 
say,  that  as  he  had   given  me  a  thousand  pounds  in 
praise,  he   had  a  good  right  now  and  then  to  take  a 
guinea  from  me. 

On  Thursday,  April  8,  I  dined  with  him  at  Mr. 
Allan  Ramsay's,  with  Lord  Graham  and  some  other 
company.  We  talked  of  Shakspeare's  witches.  John- 
son. "  They  are  beings  of  his  own  creation  ;  they  are 
a  compound  of  malignity  and  meanness,  without  any 
abilities  :  and  are  quite  different  from  the  Itahan  ma- 
gician. King  James  says  in  his  '  Daemonology'  '  Ma- 
gicians command  the  devils  :  witchejs  are  their  servants.' 
The  Italian  magicians  are  elegant  beings."  Ramsay. 
"  Opera  witches,  not  Drury-lane  witches." — Johnson 
observed,  that  abilities  might  be  employed  in  a  narrow 
sphere,  as  in  getting  money,  which  he  said  he  beheved 
no  man  could  do,  without  vigorous  parts,  though  con- 
centrated to  a  point.  Ramsay.  "  Yes,  like  a  strong 
horse  in  a  mill  ;  he  pulls  better." 

Lord  Graham,  while  he  praised  the  beauty  of  Loch- 
lomond,  on  the  banks  of  which  is  his  family  seat,  com- 
plained of  the  climate,  and  said  he  could  not  bear  it. 
Johnson.  "  Nay,  my  Lord,  don't  talk  so  :  you  may 
bear  it  well  enough.  Your  ancestors  have  borne  it 
more  years  than  1  can  tell."  This  was  a  handsome 
compliment  to  the  antiquity  of  the  House  of  Montrose. 
His  Lordship  told  me  afterwards,  that  he  had  only  af- 
fected to  complain  of  the  climate  ;  lest,  if  he  had 
spoken  as  favourably  of  his  country  as  he  really  thought, 
Dr.  Johnson  might  have  attacked  it.  Johnson  was 
very  courteous  to  Lady  Margaret  Macdonald.  "  Mad- 
am, (said  he,)  when  I  was  in  the  Isle  of  Sky,  I  heard 


$8  THE    LIFE    OP 

1779.  of  the  people  running  to  take  the  stones  oflf  the  road, 
lest  Lady  Margaret's  horse  should  stumble." 

Lord  Graham  commended  Dr.  Drummond  at  Naples 
as  a  man  of  extraordinary  talents  ;  and  added,  that  he 
had  a  great  love  of  liberty.  Johnson.  "  He  is  ijoung^ 
my  Lord  ;  (looking  to  his  Lordship  with  an  arch  smile) 
all  hoijs  love  liberty,  till  experience  convinces  them 
they  are  not  so  fit  to  govern  themselves  as  they  imag- 
ined. We  are  all  agreed  as  to  our  own  liberty  ;  we 
would  have  as  much  of  it  as  we  can  get  ;  but  we  are 
not  agreed  as  to  the  liberty  of  others  :  for  in  propor- 
tion as  we  take,  others  must  lose.  I  believe  we  hardly 
wish  that  the  mob  should  have  liberty  to  govern  us. 
When  that  was  the  case  some  time  ago,  no  man  was 
at  liberty  not  to  have  candles  in  his  windows."  Ram- 
say. "  The  result  is,  that  order  is  better  than  confu- 
sion." Johnson.  "  The  result  is,  that  order  cannot 
be  had  but  by  subordination." 

On  Friday,  April  16,  1  had  been  present  at  the  trial 
of  the  unfortunate  Mr.  Hackman,  who  in  a  fit  of  fran- 
tick  jealous  love,  had  shot  Miss  Ray,  the  favourite  of  a 
nobleman.  Johnson,  in  whose  company  I  dined  to- 
day with  some  other  friends,  was  much  interested  by 
my  account  of  what  passed,  and  particularly  with  his 
prayer  for  the  mercy  of  heaven.  He  said,  in  a  solemn 
fervid  tone,  "  I  hope  he  shall  find  mercy." 

This  day  a  violent  altercation  arose  between  John- 
son and  Beauclerk,  which  having  made  much  noise  at 
the  time,  1  think  it  proper,  in  order  to  prevent  any  fu- 
ture misrepresentation,  to  give  a  minute  account  of  it. 

In  talking  of  Hackman,  Johnson  argued,  as  Judge 
Blackstone  had  done,  that  his  being  furnished  with  two 
pistols  was  a  proof  that  he  meant  to  shoot  two  persons. 
Mr.  Beauclerk  said,  "  No  ;  for  that  every  wise  man 
who  intended  to  shoot  himself,  took  two   pistols,  that 

he  might  be  sure  of  doing  it  at  once.     Lord 's 

cook  shot  himself  with  one  pistol,  and  lived  ten  days 
in  great  agony.  Mr. ,  who  loved  buttered  muf- 
fins, but  durst  not  eat  them  because  they  disagreed 
with  his  stomach,  resolved  to  shoot  himself ;  and  then 
he  eat  three    buttered   muffins  for  breakfast,   before 


DR.    JOHNSON.  89 

shooting  himself,  knowing  that  he  should  not  be  1779. 
troubled  with  indigestion  :  he  had  two  charged  pistols ;  ^^ 
one  was  found  lying  charged  upon  the  table  by  him,  70. 
after  he  had  shot  himself  with  the  other." — "  Well, 
(said  Johnson,  with  an  air  of  triumph,)  you  see  here 
one  pistol  was  sufficient."  Beauclerk  replied  smartly, 
"  Because  it  happened  to  kill  him."  And  either  then 
or  a  very  little  afterwards,  being  piqued  at  Johnson's 
triumphant  remark,  added,  "  This  is  what  you  don't 
know,  and  I  do."  There  was  then  a  cessation  of  the 
dispute  ;  and  some  minutes  intervened,  during  which, 
dinner  and  the  glass  went  on  cheerfully  ;  when  John- 
son suddenly  and  abruptly  exclaimed,  "  Mr.  Beau- 
clerk,  how  came  you  to  talk  so  petulantly  to  me,  as 
*  This  is  what  you  don't  know,  but  what  1  know  V  One 
thing  /  know,  which  ifoii  don't  seem  to  know,  that  you 
are  very  uncivil."  Beauclerk.  "  Because  ijou  began 
by  being  uncivil,  (which  you  always  are.)"  The  words 
in  parentheses  were,  I  believe,  not  heard  by  Dr.  John- 
son. Here  again  there  was  a  cessation  of  arms. 
Johnson  told  me,  that  the  reason  why  he  waited  at 
first  some  time  without  taking  any  notice  of  what  Mr. 
Beauclerk  said,  was  because  he  was  thinking  whether 
he  should  resent  it.  But  when  he  considered  that 
there  were  present  a  young  Lord  and  an  eminent  trav- 
eller, two  men  of  the  world  with  whom  he  had  never 
dined  before,  he  was  apprehensive  that  they  might 
think  they  had  a  right  to  take  such  liberties  with  him 
as  Beauclerk  did,  and  therefore  resolved  he  would  not 
let  it  pass  ;  adding,  "  that  he  would  not  appear  a  cow- 
ard." A  little  while  after  this,  the  conversation  turned 
on  the  violence  of  Hackman's  temper.  Johnson  then 
said,  "  It  was  his  business  to  command  his  temper,  as 
my  friend,  Mr.  Beauclerk,  should  have  done  some  time 
ago."  Beauclerk.  "  1  should  learn  of  ijou,  Sir." 
Johnson.  "  Sir,  you  have  given  me  opportunities 
enough  of  learning,  when  I  have  been  in  your  compa- 
ny. No  man  loves  to  be  treated  with  contempt." 
Beauclerk.  (with  a  polite  inclination  towards  John- 
son) "  Sir,  you  have  known  me  twenty  years,  and 
however  I  may  have  treated  others,  you  may  be  sure 

VOL.  III.  '  12 


90  THE    LIFE    OF 

'779.  I  could  never  treat  you  with  contempt/*  Johnson. 
2J^  "  Sir,  you  have  said  more  than  was  necessary."  Thus 
70.  it  ended  ;  and  Beauclerk's  coach  not  having  come  for 
him  till  very  late,  Dr.  Johnson  and  another  gentleman 
sat  with  him  a  long  time  after  the  rest  of  the  company 
were  gone  ;  and  he  and  I  dined  at  Beauclerk's  on  the 
Saturday  se'nnight  following. 

After  this  tempest  had  subsided,  I  recollect  the  fol- 
lowing particulars  of  his  conversation  : 

"  1  am  always  for  getting  a  boy  forward  in  his  learn- 
ing ;  for  that  is  a  sure  good.  1  would  let  him  at  first 
read  any  English  book  which  happens  to  engage  his 
attention  ;  because  you  have  done  a  great  deal,  when 
you  have  brought  him  to  have  entertainment  from  a 
book.     He'll  get  better  books  afterwards." 

"  Mallet,  1  believe,  never  wrote  a  single  line  of  his 
projected  life  of  the  Duke  of  Marlborough.  He  groped 
for  materials  ;  and  thought  of  it,  till  he  had  exhausted 
his  mind.  Thus  it  sometimes  happens  that  men  en- 
tangle themselves  in  their  own  schemes." 

"  To  be  contradicted,  in  order  to  force  you  to  talk  is 
mighty  unpleasing.  You  shine^  indeed  ;  but  it  is  by 
being  groioid." 

"  Of  a  gentleman  who  made  some  figure  among  the 
Literati  of  his  time,  (Mr.  Fitzherbert,)  he  said,  "  VVhat 
eminence  he  had  was  by  a  felicity  of  manner  :  he  had 
no  more  learning  than  what  he  could  not  help." 

On  Saturday,  April  24,  1  dined  with  him  at  Mr. 
Beauclerk's,  with  Sir  Joshua  Reynolds,  Mr.  Jones, 
(afterwards  Sir  William,)  Mr.  Langton,  Mr.  Steevens, 
Mr.  Paradise,  and  Dr.  Higgins.  I  mentioned  that 
Mr.  Wilkes  had  attacked  Garrick  tome,  as  a  man  who 
had  no  friend.  Johnson.  "  I  believe  he  is  right.  Sir. 
O/  (foKoi,  Qv  (fiKoq — He  had  friends,  but  no  friend.*  Gar- 
rick was  so  diffused,  he  had  no  man  to  whom  he  wished 
to  unbosom  himself  He  found  people  always  ready 
to  applaud  him,  and  that  always  for  the  same  thing  : 
so  he  saw  life  with  great  uniformity."  I  took  upon 
rae,  for  once,  to  fight  with  Goliath's  weapons,  and  play 

'  See  p.  12  of  this  vol.  and  voL  I.  p.  165. 


DR.    JOHNSON.  91 

the  sophist. — "  Garrick  did  not  need  a  friend,  as  he  i779. 
got  from  every  body  all  he  wanted.     What  is  a  friend  ?  ^^ 
One  who  supports  you  and  comforts  you,  while  others  70. 
do  not.    Friendship,  you  know.  Sir,  is  the  cordial  drop, 
*  to  make  the  nauseous  draught  of  life  go  down  :*  but 
if  the  draught  be  not  nauseous,  if  it  be  all  sweet,  there 
is  no  occasion  for  that  drop."     Johnson.  "  Many  men 
would  not  be  content  to  live  so.     I  hope  I  should  not. 
They  would   wish  to   have  an   intimate   friend,   with 
whom  they  might  compare  minds,  and  cherish  private 
virtues."     One  of  the  company  mentioned  Lord  Ches- 
terfield,   as  a  man    who  had  no  friend.      Johnson. 
"  There  were  more   materials  to  make  friendship  in 
Garrick,    had   he   not  been   so  diflfused."      Boswell. 
"  Garrick   was  pure  gold,  but  beat  out  to  thin  leaf. 
Lord  Chesterfield  was  tinsel."     Johnson.   "  Garrick 
was  a  very  good  man,   the  cheerfulest  man  of  his  age  ; 
a  decent  liver  in  a  profession  which  is  supposed  to  give 
indulgence   to  Hcentiousness  ;   and  a  man  who  gave 
away,  freely,  money  acquired  by  himself.     He  began 
the  world  with   a  great  hunger  for  money  ;  the  son  of 
a  half-pay  officer,  bred  in  a  family  whose  study  was  to 
make  four-pence  do  as  much  as  others  made  four-pence 
halfpenny  do.     But,  when  he  had  got  money,  he  was 
very  liberal."      1  presumed  to  animadvert  on  his  eulo- 
gy on  Garrick,  in   his  "  Lives  of  the  Poets."     "  You 
say.   Sir,  his   death  eclipsed  the    gaiety  of  nations." 
Johnson.  "  I  could  not  have  said  more  nor  less.    It  is 
the  truth  ;  eclipsed^   not   extinguished  ;  and  his  death 
did  eclipse  ;  it  was  like  a  storm."     Bosw^ell.  "  But 
why  nations  ]  Did  his  gaiety  extend  further  than  his 
own  nation  ]"     Johnson.  "  Why,  Sir,  some  exagger- 
ation must  be  allowed.     Besides,  nations  may  be  said 
— if  we  allow  the  Scotch  to  be  a  nation,  and  to  have 
gaiety, — which  they  have  not.      You  are  an  exception, 
though.     Come,  gentlemen,  let  us  candidly  admit  that 
there  is  one  Scotchman    who  is  cheerful."      Beau- 
clerk.  "  But  he  is  a  very  unnatural  Scotchman."     I, 
however,  continued  to  think  the  compliment  to  Gar- 
rick hyperbolically  untrue.       His  acting  had   ceased 
sometime  before  his  death  ;  at  anv  rate  he  had  acte.d 


92  THE    LIFE    OF 

1779.  in  Ireland  but  a  short  time,  at  an  early  period  of  his 
^j"^  life,  and  never  in  Scotland.  1  objected  also  to  what 
70,  appears  an  antichmax  of  praise,  when  contrasted  with 
the  preceding  panegyrick, — ''  and  diminished  the  pub- 
lick  stock  of  Ijarmless  pleasure  !*' — "  is  not  harmless 
pleasure  very  tame  ?"  Johnson.  "  Nay,  Sir,  harmless 
pleasure  is  the  highest  praise.  Pleasure  is  a  word  of 
dubious  import  ;  pleasure  is  in  general  dangerous,  and 
pernicious  to  virtue  ;  to  be  able  therefore  to  furnish 
pleasure  that  is  harmless,  pleasure  pure  and  unalloyed, 
is  as  great  a  power  as  man  can  possess."  1  his  was, 
perhaps,  as  ingenious  a  defence  as  could  be  made  ; 
still,  however,  1  was  not  satisfied. 

A  celebrated  wit  being  mentioned,  he  said,  "  One 
may  say  of  him  as  was  said  of  a  French  wit,  //  ii'a  de 
Vesprit  que  contre  Dieu.  I  have  been  several  times  in 
company  with  him,  but  never  perceived  any  strong 
power  of  wit.  He  produces  a  general  effect  by  various 
means  ;  he  has  a  cheerful  countenance  and  a  gay  voice. 
Besides  his  trade  is  wit.  Jt  would  be  as  wild  in  him 
to  come  into  company  without  merriment,  as  for  a 
highwayman  to  take  the  road  without  his  pistols." 

Talking  of  the  effects  of  drinking,  he  said,  "  Drink- 
ing may  be  practised  with  great  prudence  ;  a  man  who 
exposes  himself  when  he  is  intoxicated,  has  not  the  art 
of  getting  drunk  ;  a  sober  man  who  happens  occasion- 
ally to  get  drunk,  readily  enough  goes  into  a  new  com- 
pany, which  a  man  who  has  been  drinking  should  never 
do.  Such  a  man  will  undertake-any  thing  ;  he  is  with- 
out skill  in  inebriation.  I  used  to  slink  home  when  I 
had  drunk  too  much.  A  man  accustomed  to  self-ex- 
amination will  be  conscious  when  he  is  drunk,  though 
an  habitual  drunkard  will  not  be  conscious  of  it.  I 
knew  a  physician,  who  for  twenty  years  was  not  sober  ; 
yet  in  a  pamphlet,  which  he  wrote  upon  fevers,  he  ap- 
pealed to  Garrick  and  me  for  his  vindication  from  a 
charge  of  drunkenness,  A  bookseller  (naming  him) 
who  got  a  large  fortune  by  trade,  was  so  habitually  and 
equably  drunk,  that  his  most  intimate  friends  never  per- 
ceived that  he  was  more  sober  at  one  time  than  another." 


DR.    JOHNSON.  93 

Talking  of  celebrated  and  successful  irregular  prac-  1779. 
tisers  in  physick,  he  said,  "  Taylor^  was  the  most  igno-  ^^ 
rant  man  1  ever  knew,  but  sprightly  :  Ward,  the  dullest.  70. 
Taylor  challenged  me  once  to  talk  Latin  with  him  ; 
(laughing.)  I  quoted  some  of  Horace,  which  he  took 
to  be  a  part  of  my  own  speech.  He  said  a  few  words 
well  enough."  Beauclerk.  "  I  remember,  Sir,  you 
said,  that  Taylor  was  an  instance  how  far  impudence 
could  carry  ignorance." — Mr.  Beauclerk  was  very  en- 
tertaining this  day,  and  told  us  a  number  of  short  sto- 
ries in  a  lively  elegant  manner,  and  with  that  air  oi  the 
ziiorld  which  has  1  know  not  what  impressive  effect,  as 
if  there  were  something  more  than  is  expressed,  or  than 
perhaps  we  could  perfectly  understand.  As  Johnson 
and  1  accompanied  Sir  Joshua  Reynolds  in  his  coach, 
Johnson  said,  "  There  is  in  Beauclerk  a  predominance 
over  his  company,  that  one  does  not  like.  But  he  is  a 
man  who  has  lived  so  much  in  the  world,  that  he  has  a 
short  story  on  every  occasion  ;  he  is  always  ready  to 
talk,  and  is  never  exhausted." 

Johnson  and  I  passed  the  evening  at  Miss  Rey- 
nolds's, Sir  Joshua's  sister.  I  mentioned  that  an  emi- 
nent friend  of  our's,  talking  of  the  common  remark,  that 
affection  descends,  said,  that  "  this  was  wisely  contrived 
for  the  preservation  of  mankind  ;  for  which  it  was  not 
so  necessary  that  there  should  be  affection  from  chil- 
dren to  parents,  as  from  parents  to  childreJi  ;  nay,  there 
would  be  no  harm  in  that  view  though  children  should 
at  a  certain  age  eat  their  parents."  Johnson.  "  But, 
Sir,  if  this  were  known  generally  to  be  the  case,  parents 
would  not  have  affection  for  children."  Boswell. 
"  True,  Sir  ;  for  it  is  in  expectation  of  a  return  that 
parents  are  so  attentive  to  their  children  ;  and  I  know 
a  very  pretty  instance  of  a  little  girl  of  whom  her  father 
was  very  fond,  who  once  when  he  was  in  a  melancholy 
fit,  and  had  gone  to  bed,  persuaded  him  to  rise  in  good 
humour  by  saying,  '  My  dear  papa,  please  to  get  up, 
and  let  me  help  you  on  with  your  clothes,  that  I  may 
learn  to  do  it  when  you  are  an  old  man." 

■  [The  Chevalier  Taylor,  the  celebrated  Oculist.    M.] 


94:  THE    LIFE    OF 

1779.  Soon  after  this  time  a  little  incident  occurred,  which 
^^  I  will  not  suppress,  because  1  am  desirous  that  my 
70.  work  should  be,  as  much  as  is  consistent  with  the  strict- 
est truth,  an  antidote  to  the  false  and  injurious  notions 
of  his  character,  which  have  been  given  by  others,  and 
therefore  I  infuse  every  drop  of  genuine  sweetness  into 
my  biographical  cup. 

"  TO  DR.  JOHHSON. 
"  MY  DEAR  SIR, 

"  I  AM  in  great  pain  with  an  inflamed  foot,  and 
obliged  to  keep  my  bed,  so  am  prevented  from  having 
the  pleasure  to  dine  at  Mr.  Ramsay's  to-day,  which  is 
very  hard  ;  and  my  spirits  are  sadly  sunk.  Will  you 
be  so  friendly  as  to  come  and  sit  an  hour  with  me  in 
the  evening.     I  am  ever 

"  Your  most  faithful, 

"  And  affectionate  humble  servant, 

"James  Boswell." 
*'  South-Audlejj-street  ;  Monday^  April  26." 

"  TO  MR.  BOSWELL. 

"  Mr.  Johnson  laments  the  absence  of  Mr.  Bos- 
well,  and  will  come  to  him. 
"  Harley-sfreet" 

He  came  to  me  in  the  evening,  and  brought  Sir  Josh- 
ua Reynolds.  I  need  scarcely  «ay,  that  their  conversa- 
tion, while  they  sat  by  my  bedside,  was  the  most  pleas- 
ing opiate  to  pain  that  could  have  been  administered. 

Johnson  being  now  better  disposed  to  obtain  infor- 
mation concerning  Pope  than  he  was  last  year,^  sent 
by  me  to  my  Lord  Marchmont,  a  present  of  those  vol- 
umes of  his  "  Lives  of  the  Poets,"  which  were  at  this 
time  published,  with  a  request  to  have  permission  to 
wait  on  him  ;  and  his  Lordship,  who  had  called  on 
him  twice,  obligingly  appointed  Saturday,  the  first  of 
May,  for  receiving  us. 

•  See  p.  56  of  this  volume. 


DR.   JOHNSON.  9^ 

On  that  morning  Johnson  came  to  me  from  Streatham,  *779. 
and  after  drinking  chocolate,  at  General  Paoli^s,  in  South-  ^^ 
Audley-street,  we  proceeded  to  Lord  Marchmont's  in  70. 
Curzon-street.  His  Lordship  met  us  at  the  door  of  his 
library,  and  with  great  politeness  said  to  Johnson,  "  I 
am  not  going  to  make  an  encomium  upon  myself^  by 
telling  you  the  high  respect  I  have  for  you.  Sir/'  John- 
son was  exceedingly  courteous  ;  and  the  interview, 
which  lasted  about  two  hours,  during  which  the  Earl 
communicated  his  anecdotes  of  Pope,  was  as  agreeable 
as  1  could  have  wished.  When  we  came  out,  1  said  to 
Johnson,  that  considering  his  Lordship's  civility,  I 
should  have  been  vexed  if  he  had  again  failed  to  come." 
"  Sir,  (said  he,)  I  would  rather  have  given  twenty  pounds 
than  not  have  come.''  I  accompanied  him  to  Streat- 
ham, where  we  dined,  and  returned  to  town  in  the 
evening. 

On  Monday,  May  3, 1  dined  with  him  at  Mr.  Billy's  ; 

I  pressed  him  this  day  for  his  opinion  on  the  passage  in 

Parnell,  concerning  which   I  had  in   vain   questioned 

him  in  several  letters,  and  at  length  obtained  it  in  due 

form  of  law. 

Case  for  Dr.  Johnson's  Opinion  ; 
3d  of  May,  1779. 
Parnell,  in  his  '  Hermit,'  has  the  following  pas- 
sage : 

'To  clear  this  doubt,  to  know  the  world  by  sight, 

'  To  find  if  hoohs  and  swains  report  it  right : 

'  (For  yet  by  swains  alone  the  world  he  knew, 

'  Whose  feet  came  wand'ring  o'er  the  nightly  dew.') 

Is  there  not  a  contradiction  in  its  being  first  supposed 
that  the  Hermit  knew  both  what  books  and  swains  re- 
ported of  the  world  ;  yet  afterwards  said,  that  he  knew 
it  by  swains  alone  ? 

"  /  think  it  an  inaccuracy . — He  mentions  tz0O  in- 
"  structors  in  the  first  line,  and  says  he  had  only  one 

"  in  the  next.'^ 

9 

' "  I  do  not  (says  Mr.  Malone,)  see  any  difficulty  in  this  passage,  and  wonder 
that  Dr.  Johnson  should  have  acknowledged  it  to  be  inaccurate.  The  Hermit,  it 
should  be  observed,  had  no  actual  experience  of  the  world  whatsoever  :  all  his 


96  THE    LIFE    OF 

1779.      This  evening  1  set  out  for  Scotland. 


N^r>k/ 


JEtat.  «  TO  MRS.  LUCY  PORTER,  IN   LICHFIELO. 

"dear  madam, 

"  Mr.  Green  has  informed  me  that  you  are  much 
better ;  1  hope  I  need  not  tell  you  that  I  am  glad  of  it. 
1  cannot  boast  of  being  much  better ;  my  old  nocturnal 
complaint  still  pursues  me,  and  my  respiration  is  diffi- 
cult, though  much  easier  than  when  I  left  you  the  sum- 
mer before  last.  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Thrale  are  well  ;  Miss 
has  been  a  little  indisposed  ;  but  she  is  got  well  again. 
They  have  since  the  loss  of  their  boy  had  two  daugh- 
ters ;  but  they  seem  likely  to  want  a  son. 

"  1  hope  you  had  some  books  which  I  sent  you.  I 
was  sorry  for  poor  Mrs.  Adey's  death,  and  am  afraid 
you  will  be  sometimes  solitary  ;  but  endeavour,  wheth- 
er alone  or  in  company,  to  keep  yourself  cheerful.  My 
friends  likewise  die  very  fast ;  but  such  is  the  state  of 
man.     I  am,  dear  love, 

"  Your  most  humble  servant, 
"  Maij  4,  1779.  "Sam.  Johnson." 

He  had,  before  I  left  London,  resumed  the  conver- 
sation concerning  the  appearance  of  a  ghost  at  New- 
castle upon  Tyne,  which  Mr.  John  Wesley  believed, 
but  to  which  Johnson  did  not  give  credit.     1  was,  how- 

knowledge  concerning  it  had  been  obtained  in  two  ways  ;  from  ioois,  and  from 
the  relations  of  those  country  swains,  who  had  seen  a  little  of  it.  The  plain  mean- 
ing, therefore,  is, '  To  clear  his  doubts  concerning  Providence,  and  to  obtain  some 
knowledge  of  the  world  by  actual  experience  ;  to  see  whether  the  accounts  furnish- 
ed by  books,  or  by  the  oral  communications  of  swains,  were  just  representations  of 
it ;  [I  say,  s-wains^  for  his  oral  or  -viva  •voce  information  had  been  obtained  from 
that  part  of  mankind  alone,  &c.'  The  word  alone  here  does  not  relate  to  the  whole 
of  the  preceding  line,  as  has  been  supposed,  but,  by  a  common  licence,  to  the 
words, — of  all  mankind,  which  are  understood,  and  of  which  it  is  restrictive." 

Mr.  Malone,  it  must  be  owned,  has  shewn  much  critical  ingenuity  in  his  expla- 
nation of  this  passage.  His  interpretation,  however,  seems  to  mc  much  too  recon- 
dite. The  meaning  of  the  passage  may  be  certain  enough  ;  but  surely  the  expression 
is  confused,  and  one  part  of  it  contradictory  to  the  other. 

[But  why  too  recondite  ? — When  a  meaning  is  given  to  a  passage  by  understanding 
words  in  an  uncommon  sense,  the  interpretation  may  be  said  to  be  recondite,  and, 
however  ingenious,  may  be  suspected  not  to  be  sound  ;  but  when  words  are  ex- 
plained in  their  ordinary  acceptation,  and  the  explication  which  is  fairly  deduced 
from  them  without  any  force  or  constraint  is  also  perfectly  justified  by  the  context, 
it  surely  may  be  safely  accepted  ;  and  the  calling  such  an  explication  recondite,  when 
nothing  else  can  be  said  against  it,  will  not  make  it  the  less  just.     M.] 


DR.   JOHNSON.  9/ 

ever,  desirous  to  examine  the  question  closely,  and  at  1779- 
the  same  time  wished  to  be  made  acquainted  with  Mr.  ^^ 
John  Wesley ;  for  though  I  differed  from  him  in  some   70. 
points,  1  admired  his  various  talents,  and   loved  his  pi- 
ous zeal.     At  my  request,  therefore,  Dr.  Johnson  ^ave 
me  a  letter  of  introduction  to  him. 

"  TO  THE  REVEREND  MR.  JOHN  WESLEY. 
"  SIR, 

"  Mr.  Boswell,  a  gentleman  who  has  been  long 
known  to  me,  is  desirous  of  being  known  to  you,  and 
has  asked  this  recommendation,  which  I  give  him  with 
great  willingness,  because,  I  think  it  very  much  to  be 
wished  that  worthy  and  rehgious  men  should  be  ac- 
quainted with  each  other. 

"  I  am.  Sir, 
"  Your  most  humble  servant, 
"  Marj  3,  1779.  "  Sam.  Johnson.^' 


37 


Mr.  Wesley  being  in  the  course  of  his  ministry  at 
Edinburgh,  I  presented  this  letter  to  him,  and  was  very 
politely  received.  I  begged  to  have  it  returned  to  me, 
which  was  accordingly  done. — His  state  of  the  evidence 
as  to  the  ghost,  did  not  satisfy  me. 

1  did  not  write  to  Johnson,  as  usual,  upon  my  return 
to  my  family  :  but  tried  how  he  would  be  affected  by 
my  silence.  Mr.  Dilly  sent  me  a  copy  of  a  note  which 
he  received  from  him  on  the  13th  of  July,  in  these 
words : 

"  TO  MR.  DILLY. 
"  SIR, 

"  Since  Mr.  Bosweirs  departure  I  have  never 
heard  from  him  ;  please  to  send  word  what  you  know 
of  him,  and  whether  you  have  sent  my  books  to  his 
lady.     I  am,  &c. 

"  Sam.  Johnson." 

My  readers  will  not  doubt  that  his  solicitude  about 
me  was  very  flattering. 
VOL.  iir.  13 


yS  THE    LIFE    OF 

^^^^'  "  TO  JAMES  BOSWELL,    ESQ. 

"   DEAR  SIR, 

"  What  can  possibly  have  happened,  that  keeps 
us  two  such  strangers  to  each  other  ?  1  expected  to 
have  heard  from  you  when  you  came  home  ;  I  expected 
afterwards.  I  went  into  the  country  and  returned  ; 
and  yet  there  is  no  letter  from  Mr.  Boswell.  No  ill  I 
hope  has  happened ;  and  if  ill  should  happen,  why 
should  it  be  concealed  from  him  who  loves  you  ?  Is  it 
a  fit  of  humour,  that  has  disposed  you  to  try  who  can 
hold  out  longest  without  writing  ?  If  it  be,  you  have 
the  victory.  But  1  am  afraid  of  something  bad ;  set 
me  free  from  my  suspicions. 

"  My  thoughts  are  at  present  employed  in  guessing 
the  reason  of  your  silence  :  you  must  not  expect  that  1 
should  tell  you  any  thing,  if  I   had   any  thing  to  tell. 
Write,  pray  write  to  me,  and  let  me  know  what  is,  or 
what  has  been  the  cause  of  this  long  interruption, 
"  I  am,  dear  Sir, 
"Your  most  affectionate  humble  servant, 
**  Ju/i/  13,  1779.  "  Sam.  Johnson." 

"  to   dr.  SAMUEL  JOHNSON. 

"  MY  DEAR  SIR,  "  Edinburgh,  Juiij  17,  1779- 

"  What  may  be  justly  denominated  a  supine  in- 
dolence of  mind  has  been  my  state  of  existence  since  I 
last  returned  to  Scotland.  In  a  livelier  state  I  had  often 
suffered  severely  from  long  intervals  of  silence  on  your 
part ;  and  i  had  even  been  chid  by  you  for  expressing 
my  uneasiness.  I  was  willing  to  take  advantage  of  my 
insensibility,  and  while  1  could  bear  the  experiment, 
to  try  whether  your  affection  for  me,  would,  after  an 
unusual  silence  on  my  part,  make  you  write  first.  This 
afternoon  I  have  had  very  high  satisfaction  by  receiving 
your  kind  letter  of  enquiry,  for  which  I  most  gratefully 
thank  you.  I  am  doubtful  if  it  was  right  to  make  the 
experiment ;  though  I  have  gained  by  it.  I  was  be- 
ginning to  grow  tender,  and  to  upbraid  myself,  espe- 
cially after  having  dreamt  two  nights  ago  that  1  was 


DR.    JOHNSON.  99 

with  you.     I  and  my  wife,  and  my  four  children,  are  1779- 
all  well.     I  would  not  delay  one  post  to  answer  your  ^^ 
letter ;  but  as  it  is  late,  I  have  not  time  to  do  more.   70. 
You  shall  soon  hear  from  me,  upon  many  and  various 
particulars  ;  and  I  shall  never  again  put  you  to  any  test. 
t  am,  with  veneration,  my  dear  Sir, 
"  Your  much  obliged, 

"  And  faithful  humble  servant, 

"  James  Boswell." 

On  the  22d  of  July,  I  wrote  to  him  again  ;  and  gave 
him  an  account  of  my  last  interview  with  my  worthy 
friend,  Mr.  Edward  Dilly,  at  his  brother's  house  at 
Southill  in  Bedfordshire,  where  he  died  soon  after  I 
parted  from  him,  leaving  me  a  very  kind  remembrance 
of  his  regard. 

I  informed  him  that  Lord  Hailes,  who  had  promised 
to  furnish  him  with  some  anecdotes  for  his  "  Lives  of 
the  Poets,"  had  sent  me  three  instances  of  Prior's  bor- 
rowing from  Gombdidd,  in  ''''  Recueil  cles  Poefes"  tome 
3.  Epigram  "  To  John  I  owed  '  great  obligation,"  p. 
2J.  "  To  the  Duke  of  Noailles,"  p.  32.  "  Saunter- 
ing Jack  and  idle  Joan,"  p.  25. 

My  letter  was  a  pretty  long  one,  and  contained  a  va- 
riety of  particulars  ;  but  he,  it  should  seem,  had  not 
attended  to  it ;  for  his  next  to  me  was  as  follows : 

"  TO  JAMES  BOSWELL,    ESQ. 
"  MY   DEAR  SIR, 

"  Are  you  playing  the  same  trick  again,  and  trying 
who  can  keep  silence  longest  !  Remember  that  all 
tricks  are  either  knavish  or  childish  :  and  that  it  is  as 
foolish  to  make  experiments  upon  the  constancy  of  a 
friend,  as  upon  the  chastity  of  a  wife. 

"  What  can  be  the  cause  of  this  second  fit  of  silence, 
I  cannot  conjecture  ;  but  after  one  trick,  I  will  not  be 
cheated  by  another,  nor  will  harass  my  thoughts  with 
conjectures  about  the  motives  of  a  man  who,  probably, 
acts  only  by  caprice.  1  therefore  suppose  you  are  well, 
and  that  Mrs.  Boswell  is  well  too  :  and  that  the  fine 


100  THE    LIFE    OF 

1779.  summer  has  restored  Lord  Auchinleck.     I  am  much 
2J^  better  than  you  left  me  ;  I  think   1  am   better  than 
70.  '  when  1  was  in  Scotland. 

"  1  forgot  whether  I  informed  you  that  poor  Thrale 
has  been  in  great  danger.  Mrs.  Thrale  likewise  has 
miscarried,  and  been  much  indisposed.  Every  body 
else  is  well  ;  Langton  is  in  camp.  I  intend  to  put 
Lord  Hailes's  description  of  Dryden'  into  another  edi- 
tion, and  as  1  know  his  accuracy,  wish  he  would  con- 
sider the  dates,  which  1  could  not  always  settle  to  my 
own  mind. 

"  Mr.  Thrale  goes  to  Brighthelmstone,  about  Michael- 
mas, to  be  jolly  and  ride  a  hunting.  1  shall  go  to 
town,  or  perhaps  to  Oxford.  Exercise  and  gaiety,  or 
rather  carelessness,  will,  1  hope,  dissipate  all  remains 
of  his  malady  ;  and  1  likewise  hope  by  the  change  of 
place,  to  find  some  opportunities  of  growing  yet  better 
myself.     I  am,  dear  Sir, 

"  Your  humble  servant, 
"  Streatham,  Sept.  9,  1779.  "  Sam.  Johnson." 

My  readers  will  not  be  displeased  at  being  told  every 
shght  circumstance  of  the  manner  in  which  Dr.  John- 
son contrived  to  amuse  his  solitary  hours.  He  some- 
times employed  himself  in  chymistry,  sometimes  in 
watering  and  pruning  a  vine,  sometimes  in  small  ex- 
periments, at  which  those  who  may  smile,  should  rec- 
ollect that  they  are  moments  which  admit  of  being 
soothed  only  by  trifles.^ 

'  Which  I  communicated  to  him  from  his  Lordship,  but  it  has  not  yet  been  pub- 
lished.    I  have  a  copy  of  it. 

[The  few  notices  concerning  Dryden,  which  Lord  Hailes  had  collected,  the  au- 
thor afterwards  gave  to  Mr.  Malone.     M.] 

2  In  one  of  his  manuscript  Diaries,  there  is  the  following  entry,  which  marks  his 
curious  minute  attention  :  "  July  26,  1768.  I  shaved  my  nail  by  accident  in  whet- 
ting the  knife,  about  an  eighth  of  an  inch  from  the  bottom,  and  about  a  fourth 
from  the  top.  This  I  measure  that  I  may  know  the  growth  of  nails  ;  the  whole  is 
about  five  eighths  of  an  inch." 

Another  of  the  same  kind  appears,  Aug.  7,  1779,  Partem  brachii  dextrl  carpo  prox- 
hiian  ct  cniem  pectoris  circa  mamillam  dextram  rasi  ut  notum  Jieret  qiianio  tern  ports  pili  ren- 
ovarentur.  ' 

And,  "  Aug.  15.,  1783.  I  cut  from  the  vine  41  leaves,  which  weighed  five  oz. 
and  a  half  and  eight  scruples : — I  lay  them  upon  my  book-case,  to  see  what  weight 
!  hey  will  lose  by  drying." 


DR.   JOHNSON.  101 

On  the  20th  of  September  I  defended  myself  against  1779. 
his  suspicion  of  me,   which   I  did  not  deserve  ;  and  ^uit 
added,  "  Pray,  let  us  write  frequently.  A  whim  strikes    70. 
me,  that  we  should  send  off  a  sheet  once  a  week,  like 
a  stage-coach,  whether  it  be  full  or  not  ;  nay,  though 
it  should  be  empty.     The  very  sight  of  your  hand- 
writing would  comfort  me  ;  and  were  a  sheet  to  be 
thus  sent  regularly,   we  should  much  oftener  convey 
something,  were  it  only  a  few  kind  words." 

My  friend  Colonel  James  Stuart,  second  son  of  the 
Earl  of  Bute,  who  had  distinguished  himself  as  a  good 
offi(;er  of  the  Bedfordshire  militia,  had  taken  a  publick- 
spirited  resolution  to  serve  his  country  in  its  difficulties, 
by  raising  a  regular  regiment,  and  taking  the  command 
of  it  himself.  This,  in  the  heir  of  ihe  immense  prop- 
erty of  Wortley,  was  highly  honourable.  Having  been 
in  Scotland  recruiting,  he  obligingly  asked  me  to  ac- 
company him  to  Leeds,  then  the  head-quarters  of  his 
corps  ;  from  thence  to  London  for  a  short  time,  and 
afterwards  to  other  places  to  which  the  regiment  might 
be  ordered.  Such  an  offer,  at  a  time  of  the  year,  when 
I  had  full  leisure,  was  very  pleasing  ;  especially  as  I 
was  to  accompany  a  man  of  sterling  good  sense,  in- 
formation, discernment,  and  conviviality  ;  and  was  to 
have  a  second  crop,  in  one  year,  of  London  and  John- 
son. Of  this  I  informed  my  illustrious  friend,  in  char- 
acteristical  warm  terms,  in  a  letter  dated  the  30th  of 
September,  from  Leeds. 

On  Monday,  October  4,  I  called  at  his  house  before 
he  was  up.  He  sent  for  me  to  his  bed  side,  and  ex- 
pressed his  satisfaction  at  this  incidental  meeting,  with 
as  much  vivacity  as  if  he  had  been  in  the  gaiety  of 
youth.  He  called  briskly,  "  Frank,  go  and  get  coffee, 
and  let  us  breakfast  in  splendour" 

During  this  visit  to  London  I  had  several  interviews 
with  him,  which  it  is  unnecessary  to  distinguish  par- 
ticularly. 1  consulted  him  as  to  the  appointment  of 
guardians  to  my  children,  in  case  of  my  death.  "  Sir, 
(said  he,)  do  not  appoint  a  number  of  guardians. 
When  there  are  many,  they  trust  one  to  another,  and 
the  business   is   neglected.     I   would  advise  you   to 


102  THE    LIFE    OF 

1779.  choose  only  one  ;  let  him  be  a  man  of  respectable 
"^ry  character,  who,  for  his  own  credit,  will  do  what  is 
70,  *  right  ;  let  him  be  a  rich  man,  so  that  he  may  be  under 
no  temptation  to  take  advantage  ;  and  let  him  be  a 
man  of  business,  who  is  used  to  conduct  affairs  with 
abihty  and  expertness,  to  whom,  therefore,  the  execu- 
tion of  the  trust  will  not  be  burdensome." 

On  Sunday,  October  10,  we  dined  together  at  Mr, 
Strahan's.  The  conversation  having  turned  on  the 
prevailing  practice  of  going  to  the  East-Indies  in  quest 
of  wealth  ; — Johnson.  "  A  man  had  better  have  ten 
thousand  pounds  at  the  end  of  ten  years  passed  in  Eng- 
land, than  twenty  thousand  pounds  at  the  end  of  ten 
years  passed  in  India,  because  you  must  compute  what 
you  give  for  money  ;  and  a  man  who  has  lived  ten  years 
in  India,  has  given  up  ten  years  of  social  comfort  and 
all  those  advantages  which  arise  from  living  in  Eng- 
land. The  ingenious  Mr.  Brown,  distinguished  by  the 
name  of  Capabilitij  Browii,  told  me,  that  he  was  once 
at  the  seat  of  Lord  Clive,  who  had  returned  from  India 
with  great  wealth  ;  and  that  he  shewed  him  at  the 
door  of  his  bed-chamber  a  large  chest,  which  he  said 
he  had  once  had  full  of  gold  ;  upon  which  Brown  ob- 
served, '  I  am  glad  you  can  bear  it  so  near  your  bed- 
chamber." 

We  talked  of  the  state  of  the  poor  in  London. — 
Johnson.  "  Saunders  Welch,  the  Justice,  who  was  once 
High-Constable  of  Holborn,  and  had  the  best  opportu- 
nities of  knowing  the  state  of  the  poor,  told  me,  that  I 
under- rated  the  number,  when  I  computed  that  twenty 
a  week,  that  is,  above  a  thousand  a  year,  died  of  hun- 
ger ;  not  absolutely  of  immediate  hunger ;  but  of  the 
wasting  and  other  diseases  which  are  the  consequences 
of  hunger.  This  happens  only  in  so  large  a  place  as 
London,  where  people  are  not  known.  What  we  are 
told  about  the  great  sums  got  by  begging,  is  not  true  : 
the  trade  is  overstocked.  And,  you  may  depend  upon 
it,  there  are  many  who  cannot  get  work.  A  particular 
kind  of  manufacture  fails  :  Those  who  have  been  used 
to  work  at  it,  can,  for  some  time,  work  at  nothing  else. 
You  meet  a  man  begging  ;  you  charge  him  with  idle- 


I 


DR.   JOHNSON.  103 

ness  :  he  says,  '  I  am  willing  to  labour.  Will  you  give  1779. 
me  work  V — '  I  cannot.' — Why  then  you  have  no  right  ^J^ 
to  charge  me  with  idleness."  70^ ' 

We  left  Mr.  Strahan's  at  seven,  as  Johnson  had  said 
he  intended  to  go  to  evening  prayers.  As  we  walked 
along,  he  complained  of  a  little  gout  in  his  toe,  and  said, 
I  shan't  go  to  prayers  to-night ;  1  shall  go  to-morrow  : 
Whenever  I  miss  church  on  a  Sunday,  I  resolve  to  go 
another  day.  But  I  do  not  always  do  it."  This  was  a 
fair  exhibition  of  that  vibration  between  pious  resolu- 
tions and  indolence,  which  many  of  us  have  too  often 
experienced. 

I  went  home  with  him,  and  we  had  a  long  quiet 
conversation. 

I  read  him  a  letter  from  Dr.  Hugh  Blair  concerning 
Pope,  (in  writing  whose  life  he  was  now  employed,) 
which  1  shall  insert  as  a  literary  curiosity.^ 

"  TO  JAMES  BOSWELL,  ESQ. 
"  DEAR  SIR, 

"  In  the  year  1763,  being  at  London,  I  was  carried 
by  Dr.  John  Blair,  Prebendary  of  Westminster,  to  dine 
at  old  Lord  Bat  hurst's  ;  where  we  found  the  late  Mr. 
Mallet,  Sir  James  Porter,  who  had  been  Ambassadour 
at  Constantinople,  the  late  Dr.  Macaulay,  and  two  or 
three  more.  The  conversation  turning  on  Mr.  Pope, 
Lord  Bathurst  told  us,  that  '  The  Essay  on  Man'  was 
originally  composed  by  Lord  Bolingbroke  in  prose,  and 
that  Mr.  Pope  did  no  more  than  put  it  into  verse :  that 
he  had  read  Lord  Bolingbroke's  manuscript  in  his  own 

3  The  Rev.  Dr.  Law,  Bishop  of  Carlisle,  in  the  preface  to  his  valuable  edition  of 
Archbishop  King's  "  Essay  on  the  Origin  of  Evil,"  mentions  that  the  principles 
maintained  in  it  had  been  adopted  by  Pope  in  his  "  Essay  on  Man  ;"  and  adds,  "The 
.  fact,  notwithstanding  such  denial,  (Bishop  Warburton's)  might  have  been  strictly 
verified  by  an  unexceptionable  testimony,  -viz.  that  of  the  late  Lord  Bathurst,  who 
saw  the  very  same  system  of  the  to  fiexriov  (taken  from  the  Archbishop)  in  Lord 
Bolingbroke's  own  hand,  lying  before  Mr.  Pope,  while  he  was  composing  his  Es- 
say." This  is  respectable  evidence  ;  but  that  of  Dr.  Blair  is  more  direct  from  the 
fountain-head,  as  well  as  more  full.  Let  me  add  to  it  that  of  Dr.  Joseph  Warton  ; 
"  The  late  Lord  Bathurst  repeatedly  assured  me  that  he  had  read  the  whole  scheme 
of  '  the  Essay  on  man,'  in  the  hand-writing  of  Bolingbroke,  and  drawn  up  in  a 
series  of  propositions,  which  Pope  was  to  versify  and  illustrate."  Essay  on  the  Ge- 
nius and  Writings  of  Pope,  vol.  ii.  p.  62. 


104  THE    LIFE    OF 

1779.  hand-writing  ;  and  remembered  well,  that  he  was  at  a 


,£tat  ^^^^  whether  most  to  admire  the  elegance  of  Lord  Bol- 
70. '  ingbroke's  prose,  or  the  beauty  of  Mr.  Pope's  verse. 
When  Lord  Bathurst  told  this,  Mr.  Mallet  bade  me 
attend,  and  remember  this  remarkable  piece  of  informa- 
tion ;  as,  by  the  course  of  Nature,  1  might  survive  his 
Lordship,  and  be  a  witness  of  his  having  said  so.  The 
conversation  was  indeed  too  remarkable  to  be  forgot- 
ten. A  few  days  after,  meeting  with  you,  who  were 
then  also  at  London,  you  will  remember  that  I  men- 
tioned to  you  what  had  passed  on  this  subject,  as  1-was 
much  struck  with  this  anecdote.  But  what  ascertains 
my  recollection  of  it  beyond  doubt,  is,  that  being 
accustomed  to  keep  a  journal  of  what  passed  when  f 
was  at  London,  which  i  wrote  out  every  evening,  J 
find  the  particulars  of  the  above  information,  just  as  I 
have  now  given  them,  distinctly  marked  ;  and  am 
thence  enabled  to  fix  this  conversation  to  have  passed 
on  Friday,  the  22d  of  April,  176.3. 

"  I  remember  also  distinctly,  (though  I  have  not  for 
this  the  authority  of  my  journal,)  that  the  conversa- 
tion going  on  concerning  Mr.  Pope,  1  took  notice  of  a 
report  which  had  been  sometimes  propagated  that  he 
did  not  understand  Greek.  Lord  Bathurst  said  to  me 
that  he  knew  that  to  be  false  ;  for  that  part  of  the 
Iliad  was  translated  by  Mr.  Pope  in  his  house  in  the 
country  ;  and  that  in  the  morning  when  they  assem- 
bled at  breakfast,  Mr.  Pope  used  frequently  to  repeat, 
with  great  rapture,  the  Greek  liaes  which  he  had  been 
translating,  and  then  to  give  them  his  version  of  them, 
and  to  compare  them  together. 

"  If  these  circumstances  can  be  of  any  use  to  Dr. 
Johnson,  you  have  my  full  liberty  to  give  them  to 
him.  1  beg  you  will,  at  the  same  time,  present  to 
him  my  most  respectful  compliments,  with  best  wishes 
for  his  success  and  fame  in  all  his  literary  undertak- 
ings. I  am,  with  great  respect,  my  dearest  Sir, 
"  Your  most  affectionate, 

"  And  obliged  humble  servant, 
"  Broughton  Park,  Sept,  21,  1779.     "  Hugh  Blair." 


DR.    JOHNSON.  105 

Johnson.  "  Depend  upon  it,  Sir,  this  is  too  strongly  1779- 
stated.  Pope  may  have  had  from  Bohngbroke  the  phi-  Jiat^ 
losophick  stamina  of  his  Essay  ;  and  admitting  this  to  70.  ' 
be  true,  Lord  Bathurst  did  not  intentionally  falsify. 
But  the  thing  is  not  true  in  the  latitude  that  Blair 
seems  to  imagine  ;  we  are  sure  that  the  poetical  ima- 
gery, which  makes  a  great  part  of  the  poem,  was  Pope's 
own.  It  is  amazing,  Sir,  what  deviations  there  are 
from  precise  truth,  in  the  account  which  is  given  of  al- 
most every  thing.  I  told  Mrs.  Thrale,  '  You  have  so 
little  anxiety  about  truth,  that  you  never  tax  your 
memory  with  the  exact  thing.  Now  what  is  the  use 
of  the  memory  to  truth,  if  one  is  careless  of  exact- 
ness ?  Lord  Hailes's  '  Annals  of  Scotland'  are  very 
exact  ;  but  they  contain  mere  dry  particulars.  They 
are  to  be  considered  as  a  Dictionary.  You  know  such 
things  are  there  ;  and  may  be  looked  at  when  you 
please.  Robertson  paints  ;  but  the  misfortune  is,  you 
are  sure  he  does  not  know  the  people  whom  he  paints  ; 
so  you  cannot  suppose  a  likeness.  Characters  should 
never  be  given  by  an  historian,  unless  he  knew  the 
people  whom  he  describes,  or  copies  from  those  who 
knew  them." 

BoswELL.  "  Why,  Sir,  do  people  play  this  trick 
which  I  observe  now,  when  I  look  at  your  grate,  put- 
ting the  shovel  against  it  to  make  the  fire  burn  \" 
Johnson.  "  They  play  the  trick,  but  it  does  not  make 
the  fire  burn.*  There  is  a  better  ;  (setting  the  poker 
perpendicularly  up  at  right  angles  with  the  grate.)  In 
days  of  superstition  they  thought,  as  it  made  a  cross 
with  the  bars,  it  would  drive  away  the  witch." 

BoswELL.  "  By  associating  with  you,  Sir,  I  am  al- 
ways getting  an  accession  of  wisdom.  But  perhaps  a 
man,  after  knowing  his  own  character — the  limited 
strength  of  his  own  mind,  should  not  be  desirous  of 
having  too  much  wisdom,  considering,  quid  -caleant 
humeri,  how  little  he  can  cany."  Johnson.  "  Sir,  be 
as  wise  as  vou  can  ;  let  a  man  be  aliis  Icetus^  sapiens 
sibi  : 

*  [It  certainly  does  make  the  fire  bum  :  by  repelling  the  air,  it  throws  a  blast 
on  the  fire,  and  so  performs  the  part  in  some  degree  ef  a  blower  or  bellows.     K."] 

VOL.   III.  H 


J» 


106  THE    LIFE    OF 

1779-  '  Though  pleas'd  to  see  the  dolphins  play, 

2J^  '  I  mind  my  compass  and  my  way/  "^ 

70. 

You  may  be  wise  in  your  study  in  the  morning,  and 
gay  in  company  at  a  tavern  in  the  evening,  livery 
man  is  to  take  care  of  his  own  wisdom  and  his  own 
virtue,  without  minding  too  much  what  others  think. 

He  said,  "  Dodsley  first  mentioned  to  me  the 
scheme  of  an  English  Dictionary  ;  but  I  had  long 
thought  of  it."  BoswELL.  "  You  did  not  know  what 
you  were  undertaking."  Johnson.  "  Yes,  Sir,  1  knew 
very  well  what  1  was  undertaking, — and  very  well  how 
to  do  it, — and  have  done  it  very  well."  Boswell. 
"  An  excellent  climax  !  and  it  has  availed  you.  In 
your  Preface  you  say,  '  What  would  it  avail  me  in 
this  gloom  of  solitude  ?'  You  have  been  agreeably 
mistaken." 

In  his  life  of  Milton,  he  observes,  "  I  cannot  but 
remark  a  kind  of  respect,  perhaps  unconsciously,  paid 
to  this  great  man  by  his  biographers  :  every  house  in 
which  he  resided  is  historically  mentioned,  as  if  it 
were  an  injury  to  neglect  naming  any  place  that  he 
honoured  by  his  presence."  I  had,  before  I  read  this 
observation,  been  desirous  of  shewing  that  respect  to 
Johnson,  by  various  enquiries.  Finding  him  this 
evening  in  a  very  good  humour,  1  prevailed  on  him  to 
give  me  an  exact  list  of  his  places  of  residence,  since 
he  entered  the  metropolis  as  an  authour,  which  I  sub- 
join in  a  note.*  » 

■•  ThjB  spleen,  a  Poem. 

*  1.  Exeter-street,  off  Catlierine-street,  Strand. 

2.  Greenwich. 

3.  Woodstock-street,  near  Hanover-square. 

4.  Castle-street,  Cavendish-squjire,  No.  6. 

5.  Strand. 

6.  Boswell-Court. 

7.  Strand,  again. 

8.  Bow-street. 

9.  Holborn. 

10.  Fetter-lane. 

1 1 .  Holborn,  again. 

12.  Gough-square. 

13.  Staple-Inn. 

14.  Gray's-Inn. 

J  5.  Inner  Temple-lane,  No.  1- 


DR.   JOHNSON.  i07 

I  mentioned  to  him  a  dispute  between  a  friend  of  i779. 
mine   and    his   lady,    concerning    conjugal   infidehty,  ^^ 
which  my  friend  had  maintained  was  by  no  means  so   70. 
bad  in  the  husband,  as  in  the  wife.    Johnson.  "  Your 
friend  was  in  the  right,  Sir.     Between  a  man  and  his 
Maker  it  is  a  ditferent  question  :  but  between  a  man 
and  his  wife,  a  husband's  infidehty  is  nothing.     They 
are  connected  by  children,  by  fortune,  by  serious  con- 
siderations of  community.    Wise  married  women  don't 
trouble  themselves  about  the  infidelity  of  their  hus- 
bands."     BoswELL.    "   To  be  sure  there  is  a  great 
diflPerence  between   the  offence  of  infidelity  in  a  man 
and  that  of  his  wife."      Johnson.  "  The  difference  is 
boundless.     The  man  imposes  no  bastards  upon  his 
wife." 

Here  it  may  be  questioned,  whether  Johnson  was 
entirely  in  the  right.  I  suppose  it  will  not  be  contro- 
verted, that  the  difference  in  the  degree  of  criminality 
is  very  great,  on  account  of  consequences  :  but  still  it 
may  be  maintained,  that,  independent  of  moral  obliga- 
tion, infidelity  is  by  no  means  a  light  offence  in  a  hus- 
band ;  because  it  must  hurt  a  delicate  attachment,  in 
which  a  mutual  constancy  is  implied,  with  such  refined 
sentiments  as  Massinger  has  exhibited  in  his  play  of 
"  The  Picture." — Johnson  probably  at  another  time 
would  have  admitted  this  opinion.  And  let  it  be  kept 
in  remembrance,  that  he  was  very  careful  not  to  give 
any  encouragement  to  irregular  conduct.  A  gentle- 
man, not  adverting  to  the  distinction  made  by  him 
upon  this  subject,  supposed  a  case  of  singular  perverse- 
ness  in  a  wife,  and  heedlessly  said,  "  That  then  he 
thought  a  husband  might  do  as  he  pleased  with  a  safe 
conscience."  Johnson.  "  Nay,  Sir,  this  is  wild  in- 
deed (smiling  ;)  you  must  consider  that  fornication  is 
a  crime  in  a  single  man  ;  and  you  cannot  have  more 
liberty  by  being  married." 

He  this  evening  expressed  himself  strongly  against 
the  Roman  Catholicks  ;  observing,  "  In  every  thing  irt 
which  they  differ  from  us,  they  are  wrong."     He  was 

16.  Johnson's-court,  No.  7.  .' 

17.  Bolt-Court,  No.  8. 


108  THE    LIFE    OF 

1779.  even  against  the  invocation  of  Saints ;  in  short,  he  was 

£i^  in  the  humour  of  opposition. 

70.  Having  regretted  to  him  that  1  had  learnt  little 
Greek,  as  is  too  generally  the  case  in  Scotland  ;  that  I 
had  for  a  long  time  hardly  applied  at  all  to  the  study 
of  that  noble  language,  and  that  I  was  desirous  of 
being  told  by  him  what  method  to  follow  ;  he  recom- 
mended to  me  as  easy  helps,  Sylvanus's  "  First  Book 
of  the  Iliad  ;"  Dawson's  "  L«=xicon  to  the  Greek  New 
Testament  ;"  and  "  Hesiod,"  with  Pasoris  Lexicon  at 
the  end  of  it. 

On  Tuesday,  October  12,  I  dined  with  him  at  Mr. 
Ramsay's,  with  Lord  Newhaven,  and  some  other  com- 
pany, none  of  whom  I  recollect,  but  a  beautiful  Miss 
Graham,^  a  relation  of  his  Lordship's,  who  asked  Dr. 
Johnson  to  hob  or  nob  with  her.  He  was  flattered  by 
such  pleasing  attention,  and  politely  told  her,  he  never 
drank  wine  ;  but  if  she  would  drink  a  glass  of  water, 
he  was  much  at  her  service.  She  accepted.  "  Oho, 
Sir  !  (said  Lord  Newhaven)  you  are  caught."  John- 
son. "  Nay,  I  do  not  see  how  I  am  caught  ;  but  if  I 
am  caught,  I  don't  want  to  get  free  again.  If  1  am 
caught,  I  hope  to  be  kept."  Then  when  the  two 
glasses  of  water  were  brought,  smiling  placidly  to  the 
young  lady,  he  said,   "  Madam,  let  us  reciprocate." 

Lord  Newhaven  and  Johnson  carried  on  an  argument 
for  some  time,  concerning  the  Middlesex  election. 
Johnson  said,  "  Parliament  may  be  considered  as  bound 
by  law,  as  a  man  is  bound  where  there  is  nobody  to 
tie  the  knot.  As  it  is  clear  that  the  House  of  Com- 
mons may  expel,  and  expel  again  and  again,  why  not 
allow  of  the  power  to  incapacitate  for  that  parliament, 
rather  than  have  a  perpetual  contest  kept  up  between 
parliament  and  the  people."  Lord  Newhaven  took  the 
i  opposite  side  ;  but  respectfully  said,  "  1  speak  with 
great  deference  to  you.  Dr.  Johnson  ;  1  speak  to  be  in- 
structed." This  had  its  full  effect  on  my  friend.  He 
bowed  his  head  almost  as  low  as  the  table,  to  a  com- 
plimenting nobleman  ;  and  called  out,  "  My  Lord,  my 

'  Now  the  lady  of  Sir  Henry  Dashwood,  Bart. 


DR.   JOHNSON.  109 

Lord,  I  do  not  desire  all  this  ceremony  ;  let  us  tell  our  >779. 
minds  to  one  another  quietly."     After  the  debate  was  Jt^ 
over,  he  said,  "  I  have  got  lights  on  the  subject  to-day,    70. 
which  1  had   not  before."     This  was  a  great  deal  from 
him,  especially  as  he  had  written  a  pamphlet  upon  it. 

He  observed,  "  The  House  of  Commons  was  origin- 
ally not  a  privilege  of  the  people,  but  a  check,  for  the 
Crown,  on  the  House  of  Lords.  1  remember,  Henry 
the  Eighth  wanted  them  to  do  something  ;  they  hesi- 
tated in  the  morning,  but  did  it  in  the  afternoon.  He 
told  them,  '  It  is  well  you  did  ;  or  half  your  heads 
should  have  been  upon  Temple-bar.'  But  the  House 
of  Commons  is  now  no  longer  under  the  power  of  the 
crown,  and  therefore  must  be  bribed."  He  added  "  I 
have  no  delight  in  talking  of  publick  affairs." 

Of  his  fellow-collegian,  the  celebrated  Mr.  George 
Whitefield,  he  said,  "  Whitefield  never  drew  as  much 
attention  as  a  mountebank  does  ;  he  did  not  draw  at- 
tention by  doing  better  than  others,  but  by  doing  what 
was  strange.  Were  Astley  to  preach  a  sermon  stand- 
ing upon  his  head  on  a  horse's  back,  he  would  collect  a 
multitude  to  hear  him  ;  but  no  wise  man  would  say  he 
had  made  a  better  sermon  for  that.  1  never  treated 
Whitefield's  ministry  with  contempt ;  1  believe  he  did 
good.  He  had  devoted  himself  to  the  lower  classes  of 
mankind,  and  among  them  he  was  of  use.  But  when 
familiarity  and  noise  claim  the  praise  due  to  knowledge, 
art,  and  elegance,  we  must  beat  down  such  pretensions." 

What  I  have  preserved  of  his  conversation  during  the 
remainder  of  my  stay  in  London  at  this  time,  is  only 
what  follows  :  1  told  him  that  when  I  objected  to  keep- 
ing company  with  a  notorious  infidel,  a  celebrated  friend 
of  ours  said  to  me,  "  1  do  not  think  that  men  who  live 
laxly  in  the  world,  as  you  and  I  do,  can  with  propriety 
assume  such  an  authority  :  Dr.  Johnson  may,  who  is 
uniformly  exemplary  in  his  conduct.  But  it  is  not  very 
consistent  to  shun  an  infidel  to-day,  and  get  drunk  to- 
morrow." Johnson.  "  Nay,  Sir,  this  is  sad  reasoning. 
Because  a  man  cannot  be  right  in  all  things,  is  he  to 
be  right  in  nothing  ]  Because  a  man  sometimes  gets 


no  THE    LIFE    OF 

1779.  drunk,  is  he  therefore  to  steal  1  This  doctrine  would 
iEtaT  ^^^y  ^^^"  bring  a  man  to  the  gallows." 
70.  After  all,  however,  it  is  a  difficult  question  how  far 
sincere  Christians  should  associate  with  the  avowed  en- 
emies of  religion  ;  for  in  the  first  place,  almost  every 
man's  mind  may  be  more  or  less  '  corrupted  by  evil 
communications  ;'  secondly,  the  world  may  very  nat- 
urally suppose  that  they  are  not  really  in  earnest  in  re- 
ligion, who  can  easily  bear  its  opponents  ;  and  thirdly, 
if  the  profane  find  themselves  quite  well  received  by 
the  pious,  one  of  the  checks  upon  an  open  declaration 
of  their  infidelity,  and  one  of  the  probable  chances  of 
obliging  them  seriously  to  reflect,  which  their  being 
shunned  would  do,  is  removed. 

He,  1  know  not  why,  shewed  upon  all  occasions  an 
aversion  to  go  to  Ireland,  where  1  proposed  to  him  that 
we  should  make  a  tour.  Johnsom.  "  It  is  the  last 
place  where  1  should  wish  to  travel.^'  Boswell. 
*'  Should  you  not  like  to  see  Dublin,  Sir  ?"  Johnson. 
"  No,  Sir ;  Dublin  is  only  a  worse  capital."  Boswell. 
*'  Is  not  the  Giant's-causeway  worth  seemg?"  Johnson". 
**  Worth  seeing  ?  yes  ;  but  not  worth  going  to  see." 

Yet  he  had  a  kindness  for  the  Irish  nation,  and  thus 
generously  expressed  himself  to  a  gentleman  from  that 
countr}'^,  on  the  subject  of  an  union  which  artful  Poli- 
ticians have  often  had  in  view — "Do  not  make  an  union 
with  us.  Sir.  We  should  unite  with  you,  only  to  rob 
you.  We  should  have  robbed  the  Scotch,  if  they  had 
had  any  thing  of  which  we  could  have  robbed  them." 

Of  an  acquaintance  of  ours,  whose  manners  and  ev- 
ery thing  about  him,  though  expensive,  were  coarse,  he 
said,  "  Sir,  you  see  in  him  vulgar  prosperity." 

A  foreign  minister  of  no  very  high  talents,  who  had 
been  in  his  company  for  a  considerable  time  quite  over- 
looked, happened  luckily  to  mention  that  he  had  read 
some  of  his  "  Rambler^  in  Italian,  and  admired  it 
much.  This  pleased  him  greatly ;  he  observed  that 
the  title  had  been  translated  //  Genio  errante^  though  I 
have  been  told  it  was  rendered  more  ludicrously,  // 
Vagabondo ;  and  finding  that  this  minister  gave  such  a 
proof  of  his  taste,  he  was  all  attention  to  him,  and  on 


DR.    JOHNSON.  Ill 

the  first  remark  which  he  made,  however  simple,  ex-  ^779. 
claimed,   "The  Ambassadour   says   well;    H^s, Excel- ^J^ 
lency  observes —  ;"    And  then  he  expanded  and  en-   70. 
Tiched  the  little  that  had  been  said,  in  so  strong  a  man- 
ner, that  it  appeared  something  of  consequence.     This 
was  exceedingly  entertaining  to  the  company  who  were 
present,  and  many  a  time  afterwards  it  furnished  a 
pleasant  topick  of  merriment :  "  The  Ambassadour  says 
loelir  became  a  laughable  term  of  applause,  when  no 
mighty  matter  had  been  expressed. 

1  left  London  on  Monday,  October  18,  and  accom- 
panied Colonel  Stuart  to  Chester,  where  his  regiment 
was  to  lye  for  some  time. 

"  MR.  BOSWELL  TO  DR.  JOHNSON. 

"  MY  DEAR  SIR,  "  Chester,  October  22,  1779. 

"  It  was  not  till  one  o'clock  on  Monday  morning, 
that  Colonel  Stuart  and  I  left  London  ;  for  we  chose  to 
bid  a  cordial  adieu  to  Lord  Mountstuart,  who  was  to 
set  out  on  that  day  on  his  embassy  to  Turin.  We 
drove  on  excellently,  and  reached  Lichfield  in  good 
time  enough  that  night.  The  Colonel  had  heard  so 
preferable  a  character  of  the  George,  that  he  would  not 
put  up  at  the  Three  Crowns,  so  that  1  did  not  see  our 
host,  Wilkins.  We  found  at  the  George  as  good  ac- 
commodations as  we  couJd  wish  to  have,  and  I  fully 
enjoyed  the  comfortable  thought  that  /  xvas  in  Lichjield 
again.  Next  morning  it  rained  very  hard  ;  and  as  I 
had  much  to  do  in  a  little  time,  I  ordered  a  post-chaise, 
and  between  eight  and  nin^  sallied  forth  to  make  a 
round  of  visits.  1  first  went  to  Mr.  Green,  hoping  to  have 
had  him  to  accompany  me  to  all  my  other  friends,  but 
he  was  engaged  to  attend  the  Bishop  of  Sodor  and 
Man,  who  was  then  lying  at  Lichfield  very  ill  of  the 
gout.  Having  taken  a  hasty  glance  at  the  additions  to 
Green's  museum,  from  which  it  was  not  easy  to  break 
away,  I  next  went  to  the  Friery,  where  I  at  first  occa- 
sioned some  tumult  in  the  ladies,  who  were  not  pre- 
pared to  receive  company  so  early  :  but  my  name,  which 
has  bv  wonderful  fehcitv  come  to  be  closelv  associated 


112  THE    LIFE    OF 

1779.  with  yours,  soon  made  all  easy ;  and  Mrs.  Cobb  and 
^j^^  Miss  Adey  re-assumed  their  seats  at  the  breakfast  table, 
70.  which  they  had  quitted  with  some  precipitation.  They 
received  me  with  the  kindness  of  an  old  acquaintance  ; 
and  after  we  had  joined  in  a  cordial  chorus  to  your 
praise,  Mrs.  Cobb  gave  me  the  high  satisfaction  of 
hearing  that  you  said,  'Boswell  is  a  man  who  1  believe 
never  left  a  house  without  leaving  a  wish  for  his  return.* 
And  she  afterwards  added,  that  she  bid  you  tell  me, 
that  if  ever  I  came  to  Lichfield,  she  hoped  I  would 
take  a  bed  at  the  Friery.  From  thence  1  drove  to  Pe- 
ter Garrick's,^  where  1  also  found  a  very  flattering  wel- 
come. He  appeared  to  me  to  enjoy  his  usual  cheerful- 
ness ;  and  he  very  kindly  asked  me  to  come  when  I 
could,  and  pass  a  week  with  him.  From  Mr.  Garrick's, 
1  went  to  the  Palace  to  wait  on  Mr.  Seward.  I  was 
first  entertained  by  his  lady  and  daughter,  he  himself 
being  in  bed  with  a  cold,  according  to  his  valetudinary 
custom.  But  he  desired  to  see  me ;  and  I  found  him 
dressed  in  his  black  gown,  with  a  white  flannel  night- 
gown above  it  ;  so  that  he  looked  like  a  Dominican 
friar.  He  was  good-humoured  and  polite  ;  and  under 
his  roof  too  my  reception  was  very  pleasing.  1  then 
proceeded  to  Stow-hill,  and  first  paid  my  respects  to 
Mrs.  Gastrell,  whose  conversation  1  was  not  willing  to 
quit.  But  my  sand-glass  was  now  beginning  to  run  low, 
as  I  could  not  trespass  too  long  on  the  Colonel's  kind- 
ness, who  obligingly  waited  for  me  ;  so  I  hastened  to 
Mrs.  Aston's,5*  whom  I  found  much  better  than  1  feared 
I  should  ;  and  there  I  met  a  brother-in-law  of  these  la- 
dies, who  talked  much  of  you,  and  very  well  too,  as  it 
appeared  to  me.  It  then  only  remained  to  visit  Mrs. 
Lucy  Porter,  which  I  did,  1  really  believe,  with  sincere 
satisfaction  on  both  sides.  I  am  sure  1  was  glad  to  see 
her  again  ;  and,  as  1  take  her  to  be  very  honest,  I  trust 
she  was  glad  to  see  me  again ;  for  she  expressed  her- 
self so,  that  1  could  not  doubt  of  her  being  in  earnest. 

8  [This  gentleman  survived  his  brother  David  many  years ;  and  died  at  Lichfield, 
Dec.  12,  1795,  setat.  86.     A.  C] 

[A  maiden  sister  of  Johnson's  favourite,  Molly  Aston,  who  married  Captain 
Brodie,  of  the  Navy.     M.] 


DR.    JOHNSON.  113 

What  a  great  key-stone  of  kindness,  my  dear  Sir,  were  1779- 
you  that  morning  !  for  we  were  all  held  together  by  our  ^^ 
common  attachment  to  you.     I  cannot  say  that  1  ever   70. 
passed  two  hours   with  more  self-complacency  than  I 
did    those    two   at  Lichfield.      Let  me  not  entertain 
any  suspicion  that  this  is  idle  vanity.     Will  not  you 
confirm   me  in  my  persuasion,  that  he  who  finds  him- 
self so  regarded  has  just  reason  to  be  happy  ? 

"  We  got  to  Chester  about  midnight  on  Tuesday; 
and  here  again  I  am  in  a  state  of  much  enjoyment. 
Colonel  Stuart  and  his  officers  treat  me  with  ail  the  ci- 
vility I  could  wish  ;  and  I  play  my  part  admirably. 
Lcetus  aliis,  sapiens  sibi,  the  classical  sentence  which 
you,  I  imagine,  invented  the  other  day,  is  exemplified 
in  my  present  existence.  The  Bishop,  to  whom  I  had 
the  honour  to  be  known  several  years  ago,  shews  me 
much  attention  ;  and  I  am  edified  by  his  conversation. 
I  must  not  omit  to  tell  you,  that  his  Lordship  admires, 
very  highly,  your  Prefaces  to  the  Poets.  I  am  daily  ob- 
taining an  extension  of  agreeable  acquaintance,  so  that 
I  am  kept  in  animated  variety;  and  the  study  of  the 
place  itself,  by  the  assistance  of  books,  and  of  the  Bish- 
op, is  suflTicient  occupation.  Chester  pleases  my  fancy 
more  than  any  town  1  ever  saw.  But  1  will  not  enter 
upon  it  at  all  in  this  letter. 

"  How  long  I  shall  stay  here  I  cannot  yet  say.  I 
told  a  very  pleasing  young  lady,'  niece  to  one  of  the 
Prebendaries,  at  whose  house  1  saw  her,  *  1  have  come 
to  Chester,  Madam,  1  cannot  tell  how;  and  far  less  can 
I  tell  how  I  am  to  get  away  from  it.*  Do  not  think  me 
too  juvenile.  1  beg  it  of  you,  my  dear  Sir,  to  favour 
me  with  a  letter  while  I  am  here,  and  add  to  the  hap- 
piness of  a  happy  friend,  who  is  ever,  with  affectionate 
veneration, 

"  Most  sincerely  yours, 

"James  Boswell." 

"  If  you  do  not  write  directly,  so  as  to  catch  me  here, 
I  shall  be  disappointed.  Two  lines  from  you  will  keep 
my  lamp  burning  bright." 

'  Miss  Letitia  Barnston 
VOL.  IIT.  15 


114  THE    LIFE    OF 


1779. 


^tat. 
70. 


"  TO  JAMES  BOSWELL,  ESQ. 
"  DEAR  SIR, 

"  Why  should  you  importune  me  so  earnestly  to 
write  ?  Of  what  importance  can  it  be  to  hear  of  distant 
friends,  to  a  man  who  finds  himself  welcome  wherever 
he  goes,  and  makes  new  friends  faster  than  he  can  want 
them  ?  If  to  the  delight  of  such  universal  kindness  of 
reception,  any  thing  can  be  added  by  knowing  that  you 
retain  my  good -will,  you  may  indulge  yourself  in  the 
full  enjoyment  of  that  small  addition. 

"  1  am  glad  that  you  made  the  round  of  Lichfield 
with  so  much  success  :  the  oftener  you  are  seen,  the 
more  you  will  be  liked.  It  was  pleasing  to  me  to  read 
that  Mrs.  Aston  was  so  well,  and  that  Lucy  Porter  was 
so  glad  to  see  you. 

"In  the  place  where  you  now  are,  there  is  much  to 
be  observed  ;  and  you  will  easily  procure  yourself  skil- 
ful directors.  But  what  will  you  do  to  keep  away  the 
black  dog  that  worries  you  at  home  ?  If  you  would,  in 
compliance  with  your  father's  advice,  enquire  into  the 
old  tenures  and  old  characters  of  Scotland,  you  would 
certainly  open  to  yourself  many  striking  scenes  of  the 
manners  of  the  middle  ages.  The  feudel  system,  in  a 
country  half-barbarous,  is  naturally  productive  of  great 
anomalies  in  civil  life.  The  knowledge  of  past  times  is 
naturally  growing  less  in  all  cases  not  of  publick  record  ; 
and  the  past  time  of  Scotland  ia^so  unlike  the  present, 
that  it  is  already  difficult  for  a  Scotchman  to  image  the 
economy  of  his  grandfather.  Do  not  be  tardy  nor  neg- 
ligent ;  but  gather  up  eagerly  what  can  yet  be  found." 

"  We  have,  I  think,  once  talked  of  another  project, 
a  History  of  the  late  insurrection  in  Scotland,  with  all 
its  incidents.  Many  falsehoods  are  passing  into  uncon- 
tradicted history.  Voltaire,  who  loved  a  striking  story, 
has  told  what  he  could  not  find  to  be  true. 

2 1  have  a  valuable  collection  made  by  my  Father,  which,  with  some  additions 
and  illustrations  of  my  own,  I  intend  to  publish.  I  have  some  hereditary  claim  to 
be  an  Antiquary ;  not  only  from  my  Father,  but  as  being  descended,  by  the  moth- 
er's side,  from  the  able  and  learned  Sir  John  Skene,  whose  merit  bids  defiance  to 
all  the  attempts  which  have  been  made  to  lessen  his  fame. 


DR.   JOHNSON.  115 

''  You  may  make  collections  for  either  of  these  pro-  1779- 
jects,  or  foi*  both,  as  opportunities  occur,  and  digest  ^^ 
your  materials  at  leisure.     The  great  direction  which   70. 
Burton  has  left  to  men  disordered  like  you,  is  this,  Be 
7iot  solitary  ;  be  not  idle  :  which  1  would  thus  modify  ; 
— If  you  are  idle,  be  not  solitary  ;  if  you  are  solitary, 
be  not  idle. 

"  There  is  a  letter  for  you,  from 

"  Your  humble  servant, 
"  London^  October  27,  1779.         "  Sam.  Johnson." 

"  to  dr.    SAMUEL  JOHNSON. 

"  MY  DEAR  SIR,  "  Carlisle,  Nov.  7,  1779- 

"  That  I  should  importune  you  to  write  to  me 
at  Chester,  is  not  wonderful,  when  you  consider  what 
an  avidity  1  have  for  delight  ;  and  that  the  amor  of 
pleasure,  like  the  amor  nummi,  increases  in  proportion 
with  the  quantity  which  we  possess  of  it.  Your  let- 
ter, so  full  of  polite  kindness  and  masterly  counsel, 
came  like  a  large  treasure  upon  me,  while  already 
glittering  with  riches.  I  was  quite  enchanted  at  Ches- 
ter, so  that  I  could  with  difficulty  quit  it.  But  the 
enchantment  was  the  reverse  of  that  of  Circe  ;  for  so 
far  was  there  from  being  any  thing  sensual  in  it,  that  I 
was  all  mind.  I  do  not  mean  all  reason  only  ;  for  my 
fancy  was  kept  finely  in  play.  And  why  not  ? — If 
you  please  I  will  send  you  a  copy,  or  an  abridgement 
of  my  Chester  journal,  which  is  truly  a  log-book  of 
felicity. 

"  The  Bishop  treated  me  with  a  kindness  which  wa^ 
very  flattering.  I  told  him,  that  you  regretted  you  had 
seen  so  little  of  Chester.  His  Lordship  bade  me  tell 
you,  that  he  should  be  glad  to  shew  you  rliore  of  it. 
1  am  proud  to  find  the  friendship  with  which  you  hon- 
our me  is  known  in  so  many  places. 

"  1  arrived  here  late  last  night.  Our  friend  the 
Dean,  has  been  gone  from  hence  some  months  ;  but  I 
am  told  at  my  inn,  that  he  is  very  populous  (popular.) 
However,  1  found  Mr,  Law,  the  Archdeacon,  son  to 
the  Bishop,  and  with  him  1  have  breakfasted  and  dined 


116  THE    LIFE    OF 

1779.  very  agreeably.  I  got  acquainted  with  him  at  the 
assizes  here,  about  a  year  and  a  halt"  ago  ;  he  is  a  man 
of  great  variety  of  knowledge,  uncommon  genius,  and, 
1  believe,  sincere  religion.  1  received  the  holy  sacra- 
ment in  the  Cathedral  in  the  morning,  this  being  the 
first  Sunday  in  the  month  ;  and  was  at  prayers  there 
in  the  morning.  It  is  divinely  cheering  to  me  to  think 
that  there  is  a  Cathedral  so  near  Auchinleck  ;  and  I 
row  leave  Old  England  in  such  a  state  of  mind  as  1  am 
thankful  to  God  for  granting  me. 

"  The  black  dog  that  worries  me  at  home  I  cannot 
but  dread  ;  yet  as  1  have  been  for  $ome  time  past  in  a 
military  train,  1  trust  1  shall  repulse  him.  To  hear 
from  you  will  animate  me  like  the  sound  of  a  trumpet, 
I  therefore  hope,  that  soon  after  my  return  to  the 
northern  field,  I  shall  receive  a  iew  lines  from  you. 

"  Colonel  Stuart  did  me  the  honour  to  escort  me  in 
his  carriage  to  shew  me  Liverpool,  and  from  thence 
back  again  to  Warrington,  where  we  parted.  ^  In 
justice  to  my  valuable  wife,  1  must  inform  you  she 
wTOte  to  me,  that  as  1  was  so  happy,  she  would  not  be 
so  selfish  as  to  wish  me  to  return  sooner  than  business 
absolutely  required  my  presence.  She  made  my  clerk 
write  to  n)e  a  post  or  two  after  to  the  same  purpose, 
by  commission  from  her  ;  and  this  day  a  kind  letter 
from  her  met  me  at  the  Post-Office  here,  a(;quainting 
me  that  she  and  the  little  ones  were  well,  and  express- 
ing all  their  wishes  for  my  return  home.  1  am,  more 
and  more,  my  dear  Sir,  ^ 

"  Your  affectionate 

*'  And  obliged  humble  servant, 

"  James  Bos  well." 

"  to  JAMES    BOSWELL,  ESQ. 
"  DEAR   SIR, 

"  Your   last  letter  was  not  only  kind  but  fond. 
But  I  wish    you   to  get  rid  of  all  intellectual  excesses, 

^  His  regfiment  was  afterwards  ordered  to  Jamaica,  where  he  accompanied  \t, 
and  almost  lost  his  life  by  the  climate.  This  impartial  order  I  should  think  a  suffi- 
cient refutation  of  the  idle  rumour  that  "  there  was  still  something  behind  the 
throne  greater  than  the  tlirone  itself." 


DR.    JOHNSON.  117 

and  neither  to  exalt  your  pleasures,  nor  aggravate  your  1779. 
vexations,   beyond   their  real  and  natural  state.     Why  ^J^tat! 
should  you  not  be  as  happy  at  Edinburgh  as  at  Chester?    70. 
In  culpa  est  animus^  qui  se  non  ejjugit  usquam.     Please 
yourself  with  your  wife  and  children,  and  studies,  and 
practice. 

"  I  have  sent  a  petition  *  from  Lucy  Porter,  with 
which  I  leave  it  to  your  discretion  whether  it  is  proper 
to  comply.  Return  me  her  letter,  which  1  have  sent, 
that  you  may  know  the  whole  case,  and  not  be  seduc- 
ed to  any  thing  that  you  may  afterwards  repent.  Miss 
Doxy  perhaps  you    know  to  be  Mr.  Garrick's  niece. 

"  If  Dean  Percy  can  be  popular  at  Carlisle,  he  may 
be  very  happy.  He  has  in  his  disposal  two  livings, 
each  equal,  or  almost  equal  in  value  to  the  deanery  ; 
he  may  take  one  himself,  and  give  the  other  to  his  son. 

"  How  near  is  the  Cathedral  to  Auchinleck,  that 
you  are  so  much  delighted  with  it  ?  It  is,  I  suppose, 
at  least  an  hundred  and  fifty  miles  off.  However,  if 
you  are  pleased,  it  is  so  far  well. 

"  Let  me  know  what  reception  you  have  from  your 
father,  and  the  state  of  his  health.  Please  him  as  much 
as  you  can,  and  add  no  pain  to  his  last  years. 

"  Of  our  friends  here  1  can  recollect  nothing  to  tell 
you.  I  have  neither  seen  nor  heard  of  Langton.  Beau- 
clerk  is  just  returned  from  Brighthelmston,  I  am  told, 
much  better.  Mr.  Thrale  and  his  family  are  still  there ; 
and  his  health  is  said  to  be  visibly  improved  ;  he  has 
not  bathed,  but  hunted. 

"  At  Bolt-court  there  is  much  malignity,  but  of  late 
little  open  hostihty.^    I  have  had  a  cold,  but  it  is  gone. 

"  Make  my  compliments  to  ^Irs.  Boswell,  &c. 
"  1  am,  Sir, 

"  Your  humble  servant, 
"  London,  Nov.  13,  1779-  "  Sam.  Johnson." 

On  November  22,  and  December  21,1  wrote  to  him 
from  Edinburgh,  giving  a  very  favourable  report  of  the 

■*  Requesting  me  to  enquire  concerning  the  family  of  a  gentleman  who  was  then 
paying  his  addresses  to  Miss  Doxy. 

s  See  page  76. 


US  THE    LIFE    OF 

i7$o.  family  of  Miss  Doxy's  lover  ; — that  after  a  good  deal 
j^Jl^  of  enquiry  1  had  discovered  the  sister  of  Mr.  Francis 
71.  Stewart,  one  of  his  amanuenses  when  writing  his  Dic- 
tionary ; — that  1  had,  as  desired  by  him,  paid  her  a 
guinea  for  an  old  pocket-book  of  her  brother's  which 
he  had  retained  ;  and  that  the  good  woman,  who  was 
in  very  moderate  circumstances,  but  contented  and 
placid,  wondered  at  his  scrupulous  and  liberal  honesty, 
and  received  the  guinea  as  if  sent  her  by  Providence. 
—That  I  had  repeatedly  begged  of  him  to  keep  his 
promise  to  send  me  his  letter  to  Lord  Chesterfield, 
and  that  this  memento^  like  Delenda  est  Carthago^ 
must  be  in  every  letter  that  I  should  write  to  him,  till 
I  had  obtained  my  object. 

In  1780,  the  world  was  kept  in  impatience  for  the 
completion  of  his  "  Lives  of  the  Poets,"  upon  which 
he  was  employed  so  far  as  his  indolence  allowed  him 
to  labour. 

I  wrote  to  him  on  January  1,  and  March  13,  sending 
him  my  notes  of  Lord  Marchmont's  information  con- 
cerning Pope  ;— complaining  that  1  had  not  heard  from 
him  for  almost  four  months,  though  he  was  two  letters 
in  my  debt ; — that  I  had  suffered  again  from  melan- 
choly ; — hoping  that  he  had  been  in  so  much  better 
company,  (the  Poets,)  that  he  had  not  time  to  think  of 
his  distant  friends  ;  for  if  that  were  the  case,  1  should 
have  some  recom pence  for  my  uneasiness  ; — that  the 
state  of  my  affairs  did  not  admit  of  my  coming  to  Lon- 
don this  year ;  and  begging  he  would  return  me  Gold- 
smith's two  poems,  with  his  lines  marked. 

His  friend  Dr.  Lawrence  having  now  suffered  the 
greatest  affliction  to  which  a  man  is  liable,  and  which 
Johnson  himself  had  felt  in  the  most  severe  manner ; 
Johnson  wrote  to  him  in  an  admirable  strain  of  sympar 
thy  and  pious  consolation. 

"  TO  DR.  LAWRENCE. 
''  DEAR  SIR, 

"  At  a  time  when  all  your  friends  ought  to  shew 
their  kindness,  and  with  a  character  which  ous:ht  to 


DR.   JOHNSON.  119 

make  all  that  know  you  your  friends,  you  may  wonder  1780. 
that  you  have  yet  heard  nothing  from  me.  Ex^. 

"  1  have  been  hindered  by  a  vexatious  and  incessant    71.* 
cough,  for  which  within  these  ten  days  1  have  been  bled 
once,  fasted  four  or  five  times,  taken  physick  five  times, 
and  opiates,  I  think,  six.     This  day  it  seems  to  remit. 

"  The  loss,  dear  Sir,  which  you  have  lately  suffered, 
I  felt  many  years  ago,  and  know  therefore  how  much 
has  been  taken  from  you,  and  how  little  help  can  be 
had  from  consolation.  He  that  outlives  a  wife  whom 
he  has  long  loved,  sees  himself  disjoined  from  the  only 
mind  that  has  the  same  hopes,  and  fears,  and  interest ; 
from  the  only  companion  with  whom  he  has  shared 
much  good  or  evil ;  and  with  whom  he  could  set  his 
mind  at  liberty,  to  retrace  the  past  or  anticipate  the 
future.  The  continuity  of  being  is  lacerated  ;  the  set- 
tled course  of  sentiment  and  action  is  stopped  ;  and 
life  stands  suspended  and  motionless,  till  it  is  driven  by 
external  causes  into  a  new  channel.  But  the  time  of 
suspense  is  dreadful. 

"  Our  first  recourse  in  this  distressed  solitude,  is, 
perhaps  for  want  of  habitual  piety,  to  a  gloomy  acqui- 
escence in  necessity.  Of  two  mortal  beings,  one  must 
lose  the  other  ;  but  surely  there  is  a  higher  and  better 
comfort  to  be  drawn  from  the  consideration  of  that 
Providence  which  watches  over  all,  and  a  belief  that 
the  living  and  the  dead  are  equally  in  the  hands  of  God, 
who  will  reunite  those  whom  he  has  separated ;  or 
who  sees  that  it  is  best  not  to  reunite. 
"  I  am, -dear  Sir, 

"  Your  most  affectionate, 

"  And  most  humble  servant, 
"  January  20,  1780.  "  Sam.  Johnson.^' 

"  TO  JAMES  BOSWELL,    ESQ. 
"  DEAR  SIR, 

"  Well,  I  had  resolved  to  send  you  the  Chester- 
field letter  ;  but  I  will  write  once  again  without  it. 
Never  impose  tasks  upon  mortals.  To  require  two 
things  is  the  way  to  have  them  both  undone. 


120  THE    LIFE    OF 

1780.  "  For  the  difficulties  which  you  mention  m  your  af- 
^J^  fairs,  I  am  sorry  ;  but  difficulty  is  now  very  general : 
71,  *  it  is  not  therefore  less  grievous,  for  there  is  less  hope 
of  help.  I  pretend  not  to  give  you  advice,  not  know- 
ing the  state  of  your  affairs  ;  and  general  counsels  about 
prudence  and  frugality  would  do  you  little  good.  You 
are,  however,  in  the  right  not  to  increase  your  own 
perplexity  by  a  journey  hither ;  and  1  hope  that  by 
staying  at  home  you  will  please  your  father. 

"  Poor  dear  Beauclerk^ — nec^  ut  soles^  dabis  joca. 
His  wit  and  his  folly,  his  acuteness  and  maliciousness, 
his  merriment  and  reasoning,  are  now  over.  Such 
another  will  not  often  be  found  among  mankind.  He 
directed  himself  to  be  buried  by  the  side  of  his  mother, 
an  instance  of  tenderness  which  1  hardly  expected.  He 
has  left  his  children  to  the  care  of  Lady  Di,  and  if  she 
dies,  of  Mr.  Langton,  and  of  Mr.  Leicester  his  relation, 
and  a  man  of  good  character.  His  library  has  been 
offered  to  sale  to  the  Russian  ambassadour.^ 

"  Dr.  Percy,  notwithstanding  all  the  noise  of  the  news- 
papers, has  had  no  literary  loss.^  Clothes  and  movea- 
bles were  burnt  to  the  value  of  about  one  hundred 
pounds ;  but  his  papers,  and  I  think  his  books,  were 
all  preserved. 

"  Poor  Mr.  Thrale  has  been  in  extreme  danger  from 
an  apoplectical  disorder,  and  recovered,  beyond  the  ex- 
pectation of  his  physicians  ;  he.  is  now  at  Bath,  that  his 
mind  may^be  quiet,  and  Mrs.  Thrale  and  Miss  are  with 
him. 

*'  Having  told  you  what  has  happened  to  your  friends, 
let  me  say  something  to  you  of  yourself.  You  are  al- 
ways complaining  of  melancholy,  and  1  conclude  from 
those  complaints  that  you  are  fond  of  it.  No  man  talks 
of  that  which  he  is  desirous  to  conceal,  and  every  man 
desires  to  conceal  that  of  which  he  is  ashamed.  Do 
not  pretend   to   deny  it  ;  manifestum   habemus furem  ; 

*>  [The  Hon.  Topham  Beauclerk  died  March  11,  1780.     M.] 

'  [Mr.  Beauclerk's  Library  was  sold  by  publick  auction  in  April  and  May  1781, 
for  50111.     M.] 

'  By  a  fire  in  Northumberland-house,  where  he  had  an  apartment,  in  which  I 
have  passed  many  an  agreeable  hour. 


DR.    JOHNSON.  121 

make  it  an  invariable  and  obligatory  law  to  yourself,  1780. 
never  to  mention  your  Own  mental  diseases  ;  if  you  ^'^ 
are  never  to  speak  of  them   you  will  think  on  them   71.  * 
but  little,  and  if  you  think  little  of  them,  they  will  mo- 
lest you  rarely.     When  you  talk  of  them,  it  is   plain 
that  you  want  either  praise  or  pity ;  for  praise  there  is 
no  room,  and  pity  will  do  you  no  good  ;  therefore,  from 
this  hour  speak  no  more,  think  no  more,  about  them. 

"  Your  transaction  with  Mrs.  Stewart  gave  me  great 
satisfaction  ;  1  am  much  obliged  to  you  for  your  atten- 
tion. Do  not  lose  sight  of  her  ;  your  countenance  may 
be  of  great  credit,  and  of  consequence  of  great  advan- 
tage to  her.  The  memory  of  her  brother  is  yet  fresh 
in  my  mind ;  he  was  an  ingenious  and  worthy  man. 

"  Please  to  make  my  compliments  to  your  lady  and 
to  the  young  ladies.  1  should  like  to  see  them,  pretty 
loves. 

"  I  am,  dear  Sir, 

"  Your's  affectionately, 
'' April  d>,  \7^Q,  "  Sam.  Johnson." 

Mrs,  Thrale  being  now  at  Bath  with  her  husband, 
the  correspondence  between  Johnson  and  her  was  car- 
ried on  briskly.  I  shall  present  my  readers  with  one  of 
her  original  letters  to  him  at  this  time,  which  will 
amuse  them  probably  more  than  those  well-written  but 
studied  epistles  which  she  has  inserted  in  her  collection, 
because  it  exhibits  the  easy  vivacity  of  their  literary  in- 
tercourse. It  is  also  of  value  as  a  key  to  Johnson's  an- 
swer, which  she  has  printed  by  itself,  and  of  which  I 
shall  subjoin  extracts. 

"  MRS.  THRALE  TO  DR.  JOHNSON. 

"I  HAD  a  very  kind  letter  from  you  yesterday, 
dear  Sir,  with  a  most  circumstantial  date.  You  took 
trouble  with  my  circulating  letter,  Mr.  Evans  writes  me 
word,  and  I  thank  you  sincerely  for  so  doing  :  one 
might  do  mischief  else  not  being  on  the  spot. 

"  Yesterday's  evening  was  passed  at  Mrs.  Montagu's: 
there  was    Mr.  Melmoth  ;  1  do  not  like  him   though, 

VOL.  TIT.  \f* 


122  THE    LIFE    OF 

1 780.  nor  he  me ;  it  was  expected  we  should  have   pleased 
"^^  each  other  ;  he  is,  however,  just  Tory  enough  to  hate 
71.    the  bishop  of  Peterborough  ^  for  Whiggism,  and  Whig 
enough  to  abhor  you  for  Toryism. 

"  Mrs.  Montagu  flattered  him  finely  ;  so  he  had  a 
good  afternoon  on't.  This  evening  we  spend  at  a  con- 
cert. Poor  Queeney's'  sore  eyes  have  just  released 
her  :  she  had  a  long  confinement,  and  could  neither 
read  nor  write,  so  my  master^  treated  her  very  good- 
naturedly  with  the  visits  of  a  young  woman  in  this  town, 
a  taylor's  daughter,  who  professes  musick,  and  teaches 
so  as  to  give  six  lessons  a  day  to  ladies,  at  five  and 
three-pence  a  lesson.  Miss  Burney  says,  she  is  a  great 
performer  ;  and  1  respect  the  wench  for  getting  her 
living  so  prettily  ;  she  is  very  modest  and  pretty-man- 
nered, and  not  seventeen  years  old. 

"  You  live  in  a  fine  whirl  indeed  ;  if  I  did  not  write 
regularly  you  would  half  forget  me,  and  that  would  be 
very  wrong,  for  IJei^  my  regard  for  you  in  my  Jace  last 
night,  when  the  criticisms  were  going  on. 

"  This  morning  it  was  all  connoisseurship  ;  we  went 
to  see  some  pictures  painted  by  a  gentleman-artist,  Mr. 
Taylor,  of  this  place  ;  my  master  makes  one  every 
where,  and  has  got  a  good  dawling  companion  to  ride 
with  him  now.  *******,  fj^  looks 
well  enough,  but  I  have  no  notion  of  health  for  a  man 
whose  mouth  cannot  be  sewed  up.  Burney  and  1  and 
Queeney  teaze  him  every  meal  he  eats,  and  Mrs.  Mon- 
tagu is  quite  serious  with  him  ;  but  what  can  one  do  ? 
He  will  eat,  I  think,  and  if  he  does  eat  I  know  he  will 
not  live  ;  it  makes  me  very  unhappy,  but  1  must  bear 
it.  Let  me  always  have  your  friendship.  I  am,  most 
sincerely,  dear  Sir, 

"  Your  faithful  servant, 

«  H.  L.  T." 
''Bath,  Fridai),  April  28." 

'  Dr.  John  Hinchliffe. 

I  A  kind  of  nick-name  given  to  Mrs.  Thrale's  eldest  daughter,  whose  name  be- 
iag  Esther  slie  might  be  assimilated  to  a  Qiieeh. 

'  Mr.  Thrale. 


DR.   JOHNSON.  123 

"  DR.  JOHNSON  TO  MRS.    THRALE.  ^--Z 

"  DEAREST  MADAM, 

"Mr.  Thrale  never  will  live  abstinently,  till  he 
can  persuade  himself  to  live  by  rule.  3  ****** 
Encourage,  as  you  can,  the  musical  girl. 

"  Nothing  is  more  common  than  mutual  dislike, 
where  mutual  approbation  is  particularly  expected. 
There  is  often  on  both  sides  a  vigilance  not  over-be- 
nevolent ;  and  as  attention  is  strongly  excited,  so  that 
nothing  drops  unheeded,  any  difference  in  taste  or 
opinion,  and  some  difference  where  there  is  no  re- 
straint will  commonly  appear,  immediately  generates 
dislike. 

"  Never  let  criticisms  operate  on  your  face  or  your 
mind  ;  it  is  very  rarely  that  an  authour  is  hurt  by  his 
criticks.  The  blaze  of  reputation  cannot  be  blown 
out,  but  it  often  dies  in  the  socket  ;  a  very  few  names 
may  be  considered  as  perpetual  lamps  that  shine  un- 
consumed.  From  the  authour  of  '  Fitzosborne's  let- 
ters^ I  cannot  think  myself  in  much  danger.  I  met 
him  only  once  about  thirty  years  ago,  and  in  some 
small  dispute  reduced  him  to  whistle  ;  having  not  seen 
him  since,  that  is  the  last  impression.  Poor  Moore, 
the  fabulist,  was  one  of  the  company. 

"  Mrs.  Montagu's  long  stay,  against  her  own  inclina- 
tion, is  very  convenient.  You  would,  by  your  own 
confession,  want  a  companion  ;  and  she  is  par  pluri- 
bus  ;  conversing  with  her  you  m^iyjind  variety  in  one. 

"  London,  May  1,  1780. 

On  the  2d  of  May  I  wrote  to  him,  and  requested 
that  we  might  have  another  meeting  somewhere  in  the 
North  of  England,  in  the  autumn  of  this  year. 

From  Mr.  Langton  1  received  soon  after  this  time  a 
letter,  of  which  1  extract  a  passage,  relative  both  to 
Mr.  Beauclerk  and  Dr.  Johnson. 

"  The  melancholy  information  you  have  received 
concerning  Mr.  Beauclerk's  death  is  true.     Had  his 

'  I  have  taken  the  liberty  to  leave  out  a  few  lines. 


l'-2i:  THE    LIFE    OF 

1780.  talents  been  directed  in  any  sufficient  degree  as  they 
^t<u  ought,  1  have  always  been  strongly  of  opinion  that 
71.  they  were  calculated  to  make  an  illustrious  figure  ; 
and  that  opinion,  as  it  had  been  in  part  formed  upon 
Dr.  Johnson's  judgement,  receives  more  and  more 
confirmation  by  hearing,  what  since  his  death,  Dr. 
Johnson  has  said  concerning  them  ;  a  few  evenings 
ago,  he  was  at  Mr.  Vesey's,  where  Lord  Althorpe,  who 
was  one  of  a  numerous  company  there,  addressed  Dr. 
Johnson  on  the  subject  of  Mr.  Beauclerk's  death,  say- 
ing, '  Our  Club  has  had  a  great  loss  since  we  met  last.' 
He  replied,  '  A-  loss,  that  perhaps  the  whole  nation 
could  not  repair  !'  The  Doctor  then  went  on  to  speak 
of  his  endowments,  and  particularly  extolled  the  won- 
derful ease  with  which  he  uttered  what  was  highly 
excellent.  He  said,  '  that  no  man  ever  was  so  free 
when  he  was  going  to  say  a  good  thing,  from  a  look 
that  expressed  that  it  was  coming  ;  or,  when  he  had 
said  it,  from  a  look  that  expressed  that  it  had  come.' 
At  Mr.  Thrale's,  some  days  before  when  we  were  talk- 
ing on  the  same  subject,  he  said,  referring  to  the  same 
idea  of  his  wonderful  facility,  '  That  Beauclerk's  talents 
were  those  which  he  had  felt  himself  more  disposed  to 
envy,  than  those  of  any  whom  he  had  known.' 

".On  the  evening  I  have  spoken  of  above,  at  Mr. 
Vesey's,  you  would  have  been  much  gratified,  as  it 
exhibited  an  instance  of  the  high  importance  in  which 
Dr.  Johnson's  character  is  held,  1  think  even  beyond 
any  I  ever  before  was  witness  to.  The  company  con- 
sisted chiefly  of  ladies,  among  whom  were  the  Duchess 
Dowager  of  Portland,  the  Duchess  of  Beaufort,  whom 
I  suppose  from  her  rank,  I  must  name  before  her 
mother  Mrs.  Boscawen,  and  her  elder  sister  Mrs.  Lew- 
son,  who  was  likewise  there  ;  Lady  Lucan,  Lady  Cler- 
mont, and  others  of  note  both  for  their  station  and 
understandings.  Among  the  gentlemen  were  Lord 
Althorpe,  whom  I  have  before  named,  Lord  Macart- 
ney, Sir  Joshua  Reynolds,  Lord  Lucan,  Mr.  Wraxal, 
whose  book  you  have  probably  seen,  '  The  Tour  to 
the  Northern  Parts  of  Europe  ;'  a  very  agreeable  in- 
genious man  ;  Dr.  Warren,  Mr,  Pepys,  the  Master  in 


DR.    JOHNSON.  195 

Chancery,  whom  I  beheve  you  know,  and  Dr.  Ber-  ^780. 
nard,  the  Provost  of  Eton.     As  soon  as   Dr.  Johnson  '^^ 
was  come  in,  and  had  taken    a  chair,  the  company   71. 
began  to  collect  round  him  till  they  became  not  less 
than  four,  if  not  five,  deep  ;  those  behind  standing, 
and  listening  over  the  heads  of  those  that  were  sitting 
near  him.     The  conversation  for  some  time  was  chiefly 
between  Dr.  Johnson  and  the  Provost  of  Eton,  while 
the   others    contributed    occasionally    their    remarks. 
Without  attempting   to  detail  the  particulars  of  the 
conversation,  which  perhaps  if  1  did,  1  should  spin  my 
account  out  to  a  tedious  length,   1  thought,   my  dear 
Sir,  this  general  account  of  the  respect  with  which  our 
valued  friend  was  attended  to,  might  be  acceptable.^' 

"to  the  reverend  dr.  farmer. 

"  SIR,  "Mai/  2o,  1780. 

"  I  KNOW  your  disposition  to  second  any  literary 
attempt,  and  therefore  venture  upon  the  liberty  of  en- 
treating you  to  procure  from  College  or  University 
registers,  all  the  dates  or  other  informations  which 
they  can  supply  relating  to  Ambrose  Philips,  Broome, 
and  Gray,  who  were  all  of  Cambridge,  and  of  whose 
lives  I  am  to  give  such  accounts  as  1  can  gather.  Be 
pleased  to  forgive  this  trouble  from.  Sir, 

"  Your  most  humble  servant, 

"  Sam.  Johnson." 

While  Johnson  was  thus  engaged  in  preparing  a 
delightful  literary  entertainment  for  the  world,  the 
tranquillity  of  the  metropolis  of  Great  Britain  was  un- 
expectedly disturbed,  by  the  most  horrid  series  of 
outrage  that  ever  disgraced  a  civilized  country.  A 
relaxation  of  some  of  the  severe  penal  provisions 
against  our  fellow-subjects  of  the  Catholick  commu- 
nion had  been  grantjed  by  the  legislature,  with  an 
opposition  so  inconsiderable,  that  the  genuine  mildness 
of  Christianity  united  with  liberal  policy,  seemed  to 
have  become  general  in  this  island.  But  a  dark  and 
malignant  spirit  of  persecution  soon  shewed  itself,  in 


126  THE    LIFE    OF 

1780.  an  unworthy  petition  for  the  repeal  of  the  wise  and 
2J^  humane  statute.  That  petition  was  brought  forward 
71.  '  by  a  mob,  with  the  evident  purpose  of  intimidation, 
and  was  justly  rejected.  But  the  attempt  was  accom- 
panied and  followed  by  such  daring  violence  as  is 
unexampled  in  history.  Of  this  extraordinary  tumult, 
Dr.  Johnson  has  given  the  following  concise,  lively, 
and  just  account  in  his  "  Letters  to  Mrs.  Thrale  :"* 

"On  Friday, 5  the  good  Protestants  met  in  Saint 
George^s-Fields,  at  the  summons  of  Lord  George  Gor- 
don, and  marching  to  Westminster,  insulted  the  Lords 
and  Commons,  who  all  bore  it  with  great  tameness. 
At  night  the  outrages  began  by  the  demolition  of  the 
mass-house  by  Lincoln's-lnn. 

*'  An  exact  journal  of  a  week's  defiance  of  govern- 
ment I  cannot  give  you.  On  Monday  Mr.  Strahan, 
who  had  been  insulted,  spoke  to  Lord  Mansfield,  who 
had  I  think  been  insulted  too,  of  the  licentiousness  of 
the  populace  ;  and  his  Lordship  treated  it  as  a  very 
slight  irregularity.  On  Tuesday  night  they  pulled 
down  Fielding's  house, ^  and  burnt  his  goods  in  the 
street.  They  had  gutted  on  Monday  Sir  George 
Savile's  house,  but  the  building  was  saved.  On  Tues- 
day evening,  leaving  Fielding's  ruins,  they  went  to 
Newgate  to  demand  their  companions,  who  had  been 
seized  demohshing  the  chapel.  The  keeper  could  not 
release  them  but  by  the  Mayor's  permission,  which  he 
went  to  ask  ;  at  his  return  he  found  all  the  prisoners 
released,  and  Newgate  in  a  blaze.  They  then  went  to 
Bloomsbury,  and  fastened  upon  Lord  Mansfield's  house, 
which  they  pulled  down  ;  and  as  for  his  goods,  they 
totally  burnt  them.  They  have  since  gone  to  Caen- 
wood,  but  a  guard  was  there  before  them.  They  plun- 
dered some  Papists,  I  think,  and  burnt  a  mass-house 
in  Moorfield's  the  same  night." 

*  Vol.  II.  p.  143,  et  seq.  I  have  selected  passages  from  several  letters,  without 
mentioning  dates. 

^  June  2. 

'  [This  is  not  quite  correct.  Sir  John  Fielding  was,  I  think,  then  dead.  It  was 
Justice  Hyde's  house  in  St.  Martin's-street,  Leicester-Fields,  that  was  gutted,  and 
his  goods  burnt  in  the  street.     B.] 


DR.   JOHNSON.  127 

"  On  Wednesday  I  walked  with  Dr.  Scot  to  look  »780. 
at  Newgate,  and  found  it  in  ruins,   with  the  fire  yet  ^J^ 
glowing.     As  1  went  by  the  Protestants  were  plunder-   71. 
ing  the  Sessions-house  at  the  Old-Bailey.     There  were 
not,  I  believe,  a  hundred  ;  but  they  did  their  work  at 
leisure,    in    full   security,    without  sentinels,   without 
trepidation,   as  men    lawfully  employed    in   full  day. 
Such  is  the  cowardice  of  a  commercial  place.     On 
Wednesday  they  broke  open  the  Fleet, and  the  King's- 
Bench,  and  the   Marshalsea,  and  Wood-street  Comp- 
ter, and  Clerkenwell  Bridewell,   and  released  all  the 
prisoners. 

"  At  night  they  set  fire  to  the  Fleet,  and  to  the  King's- 
Bench,  and  1  know  not  how  many  other  places ;  and 
one  might  see  the  glare  of  conflagration  fill  the  sky 
from  many  parts.  The  sight  was  dreadful.  Some  peo- 
ple were  threatened :  Mr.  Strahan  advised  me  to  take 
care  of  myself.  Such  a  time  of  terrour  you  have  been 
happy  in  not  seeing. 

"  The  King  said  in  council,  '  That  the  magistrates 
had  not  done  their  duty,  but  that  he  would  do  his  own  ;^ 
and  a  proclamation  was  published,  directing  us  to  keep 
our  servants  within  doors,  as  the  peace  was  now  to  be 
preserved  by  force.  The  soldiers  were  sent  out  to 
difl^erent  parts,  and  the  town  is  now  [June  9,]  at  quiet. 

"  The  soldiers  are  stationed  so  as  to  be  every  where 
within  call  :  there  is  no  longer  any  body  of  rioters,  and 
the  individuals  are  hunted  to  their  holes,  and  led  to  pris- 
on :  Lord  George  was  last  night  sent  to  the  Tower. 
Mr.  John  Wilkes  was  this  day  in  my  neighbourhood,  to 
seize  the  publisher  of  a  seditious  paper." 

"  Several  chapels  have  been  destroyed,  and  several 
inoflensive  Papists  have  been  plundered,  but  the  high 
sport  was  to  burn  the  gaols.  This  was  a  good  rabble 
trick.  The  debtors  and  the  criminals  vvere  all  set  at 
liberty  ;  but  of  the  criminals,  as  has  always  happened, 
many  are  already  retaken  ;  and  two  pirates  have  surren- 
dered themselves,  and  it  is  expected  that  they  will  be 
pardoned." 

"  Government  now  acts  again  with  its  proper  force  ; 
and  we  are  all  under  the  protection  of  the  King  and  the 


i28  THE    LIFE    OF 

1780.  law.  I  thought  that  it  would  be  agreeable  to  you  and 
^tat  ^y  ^^^^^^  *<^  have  my  testimony  to  the  publick  security  ; 
71.  and  that  you  would  sleep  more  quietly  when  1  told 
you  that  you  are  safe." 

"  There  has,  indeed,  been  an  universal  panick,  from 
which  the  King  was  the  first  that  recovered.  Without 
the  concurrence  of  his  ministers,  or  the  assistance  of 
the  civil  magistrates,  he  put  the  soldiers  in  motion,  and 
saved  the  town  from  calamities,  such  as  a  rabble's  gov- 
ernment must  naturally  produce." 

"  The  publick  has  escaped  a  very  heavy  calamity. 
The  rioters  attempted  the  Bank  on  Wednesday  night, 
but  in  no  great  number;  and  like  other  thieves,  with 
no  great  resolution.  Jack  Wilkes  headed  the  party 
that  drove  them  away.  It  is  agreed,  that  if  they  had 
seized  the  Bank  on  Tuesday,  at  the  height  of  the  pan- 
ick, when  no  resistance  had  been  prepared,  they  might 
have  carried  irrecoverably  away  whatever  they  had 
found.  Jack,  who  was  always  zealous  for  order  and 
decency,  declares,  that  if  he  be  trusted  with  power,  he 
will  not  leave  a  rioter  ahve.  There  is,  however,  now 
no  longer  any  need  of  heroism  or  bloodshed  ;  no  blue 
ribband^  is  any  longer  worn." 

vSuch  was  the  end  of  this  miserable  sedition,  from 
which  London  was  delivered  by  the  magnanimity  of 
the  Sovereign  himself.  Whatever  some  may  maintain, 
I  am  satisfied  that  there  was  no  combination  or  plan, 
either  domestick  or  foreign  ;  but  that  the  mischief 
spread  by  a  gradual  contagion  of  frenzy,  augmented  by 
the  quantities  of  fermented  liquors,  of  which  the  de- 
luded populace  possessed  themselves  in  the  course  of 
their  depredations. 

I  should  think  myself  very  much  to  blame,  did  I 
here  neglect  to  do  justice  to  my  esteemed  friend  Mr. 
Akerman,  the  keeper  of  Newgate,  who  long  discharged 
a  very  important  trust  with  an  uniform  intrepid  firm- 
ness, and  at  the  same  time  a  tenderness  and  a  liberal 
charity,  which  entitle  him  to  be  recorded  with  distin- 
guished honour. 

7  [Lord  George  Gordon  and  his  followers,  during  these  outrages,  wore  blue  rib- 
hands  in  their  hats.    Al.j 


DR.   JOHNSON.  129 

Upon  this  occasion,  from  the  timidity  and  negligence  1780. 
of  magistracy  on  the  one  hand,  and  the  almost  incred-  ^J^ 
ible  exertions  of  the  mob  on   the  other,  the  first  prison   71. 
of  this  great  country  was  laid  open,  and  the  prisoners 
set  free ;    but  that  Mr.  Akerman,  whose  house   was 
burnt,  would  have  prevented  all  this,   had  proper  aid 
been  sent  him  in  due  time,  there  can  be  no  doubt. 

Many  years  ago,  a  fire  broke  out  in  the  brick  part 
which  was  built  as  an  addition  to  the  old  gaol  of  New- 
gate. The  Prisoners  were  in  consternation  and  tumult, 
calling  out,  "  We  shall  be  burnt — we  shall  be  burnt  ! 
Down  with  the  gate  ! — down  with  the  gate  !"  Mr. 
Akerman  hastened  to  them,  shewed  himself  at  the 
gate,  and  having,  after  some  confused  vociferation  of 
"  Hear  him — hear  him  !"  obtained  a  silent  attention, 
he  then  calmly  told  them,  that  the  gate  must  not  go 
down  ;  that  they  were  under  his  care,  and  that  they 
should  not  be  permitted  to  escape  :  but  that  he  could 
assure  them,  they  need  not  be  afraid  of  being  burnt,  for 
that  the  fire  was  not  in  the  prison,  properly  so  called, 
which  was  strongly  built  with  stone;  and  that  if  they 
would  engage  to  be  quiet,  he  himself  would  come  in  to 
them,  and  conduct  them  to  the  further  end  of  the  build- 
ing, and  would  not  go  out  till  they  gave  him  leave. 
To  this  proposal  they  agreed  ;  upon  which  Mr.  Aker- 
man, having  first  made  them  fall  back  from  the  gate, 
went  in,  and  with  a  determined  resolution  ordered  the 
outer  turnkey  upon  no  account  to  open  the  gate,  even 
though  the  prisoners  (though  he  trusted  they  would 
not)  should  break  their  word,  and  by  force  bring  him- 
self to  order  it.  "  Never  mind  me,  (said  he,)  should 
that  happen."  The  prisoners  peaceably  followed  him, 
while  he  conducted  them  through  passages  of  which 
he  had  the  keys,  to  the  extremity  of  the  gaol,  which 
was  most  distant  from  the  fire.  Havmg  by  this  very 
judicious  conduct  fully  satisfied  them  that  there  was 
no  immediate  risk,  if  any  at  all,  he  then  addressed  them 
thus  :  "  Gentlemen,  you  are  now  convinced  that  I 
told  you  true.  I  have  no  doubt  that  the  engines  will 
soon  extinguish  this  fire  ;  if  they  should  not,  a  suffi- 
cient guard  will  come,  and  you  shall  be  all  taken  out 

VOL.  III.  17 


130  THE    LIFE    OF 

1780.  and  lodged  in  the  Compters.  I  assure  you,  upon  my 
^^J^  word  and  honour,  that  1  have  not  a  farthing  insured. 
71.  I  have  left  mv  house  that  I  might  take  care  of  you.  I 
will  keep  my  promise,  and  stay  with  you  if  you  insist 
upon  it  ;  but  if  you  will  allow  me  to  go  out  and  look 
after  my  family  and  property,  1  shall  be  obhged  to  you." 
Struck  with  his  behaviour,  they  called  out,  "  Master 
Akerman,  you  have  done  bravely  ;  it  was  very  kind  in 
you  :  by  all  means  go  and  take  care  of  your  own  con- 
cerns." He  did  so  accordingly,  while  they  remained, 
and  were  all  preserved. 

Johnson  has  been  heard  to  relate  the  substance  of 
this  story  with  high  praise,  in  which  he  was  joined  by 
Mr.  Burke.  My  illustrious  friend,  speaking  of  Mr. 
Akerman's  kindness  to  his  prisoners,  pronounced  this 
eulogy  upon  his  character  : — "  He  who  has  long  had 
constantly  in  his  view  the  worst  of  mankind,  and  is  yet 
eminent  for  the  humanity  of  his  disposition,  must  have 
had  it  originally  in  a  great  degree,  and  continued  to 
cultivate  it  very  carefully." 

In  the  course  of  this  month  my  brother  David  waited 
upon  Dr.  Johnson,  with  the  following  letter  of  intro- 
duction, which  I  had  taken  care  should  be  lying  ready 
on  his  arrival  in  London. 

"  TO  DR.  SAMUEL  JOHNSON. 

"  MY  DEAR  SIR,         "  Edinburgh^  April  29 ^  1780. 

"  This  will  be  delivered  to  you  by  my  brother 
David,  on  his  return  from  Spain.  You  will  be  glad  to 
see  the  man  who  vowed  to  '  stand  by  the  old  castle  of 
Auchinleck,  with  heart,  purse,  and  sword  ;'  that  roman- 
tick  family  solemnity  devised  by  me,  of  which  you  and 
I  talked  with  complacency  upon  the  spot.  I  trust  that 
twelve  years  of  absence  have  not  lessened  his  feudal 
attachment ;  and  that  you  will  find  him  worthy  of  be- 
ing introduced  to  your  acquaintance. 
"  I  have  the  honour  to  be, 

"  With  affectionate  veneration, 
"  My  dear  Sir, 
"  Your  most  faithful  humble  servant, 

"  James  Boswell." 


DR.    JOHNSON.  131 

Johnson  received  him  very  politely,  and  has  thus  men-  ^780. 
tioned  him  in  a  letter  to  Mrs.  Thrale:«  "1  have  had 
with  me  a  brother  of  Bosvi'elPs,  a  Spanish  merchant," 
whom  the  war  has  driven  from  his  residence  at  Valen- 
cia ;  he  is  gone  to  see  his  friends,  and  will  find  Scotland 
but  a  sorry  place  after  twelve  years'  residence  in  a  hap- 
pier climate.  He  is  a  very  agreeable  man,  and  speaks 
no  Scotch." 

"  TO  DR.  BEATTIE,  AT  ABERDEEN. 
"  SIR, 

"  More  years'  than  I  have  any  delight  to  reckon, 
have  past  since  you  and  1  saw  one  another  :  of  this, 
however,  there  is  no  reason  for  making  any  reprehenso- 
ry  complaint : — Sic  fata  ferunt.  But  methinks  there 
might  pass  some  small  interchang^e  of  regard  between 
us.  If  you  say,  that  1  ought  to  have  written,  I  now 
write  ;  and  I  write  to  tell  you,  that  I  have  much  kind- 
ness for  you  and  Mrs.  Beattie  ;  and  that  I  wish  your 
health  better,  and  your  life  long.  Try  change  of  air, 
and  come  a  few  degrees  Southwards  ;  a  softer  climate 
may  do  you  both  good  ;  winter  is  coming  in  ;  and  Lon- 
don will  be  warmer,  and  gayer,  and  busier,  and  more 
fertile  of  amusement,  than  Aberdeen. 

"  M}'  health  is  better  ;  but  that  will  be  little  in  the 
balance,  when  1  tell  you  that  Mrs.  Montagu  has  been 
very  ill,  and  is,  I  doubt,  now  but  weakly.  Mr.  Thrale 
has  been  very  dangerously  disordered  ;  but  is  much  bet- 
ter, and  I  hope  will  totally  recover.  He  has  withdrawn 
himself  from  business  the  whole  summer.  Sir  Joshua 
and  his  sister  are  well ;  and  Mr.  Davies  has  got  great 
success  as  an  authour,^'  generated  by  the  corruption  of 

8  Vol.  II.  p.  163.     Mrs.  Piozzi  has  omitted  the  name,  she  best  knows  why. 

'  Now  settled  in  London. 

'  I  had  been  five  years  absent  from  London.  Beattie. 

2  Meaning  his  entertaining  "  Memoirs  of  David  Garrick,  Esq."  of  which  John- 
•son  (as  Davies  informed  me)  wrote  the  first  sentence  ;  thus  giving,  as  it  were,  the 
key-note  to  the  performance.  It  is,  indeed  very  characteristical  of  its  authour,  be- 
ginning with  a  maxim,  and  proceeding  to  illustrate. — "  All  excellence  has  a  right 
to  be  recorded.  I  shall,  therefore,  think  it  superfluous  to  apologize  for  writing  the 
life  of  a  man,  who  by  an  uncommon  assemblage  of  private  virtues,  adorned  the 
highest  eminence  in  a  publick  profession." 


13S  THE    LIFE    OP 

1780.  a  bookseller.     More  news  I  have  not  to  tell  you,  and 
"^^  therefore  you  must  be  contented  with  hearing,  what  I 
71.    know   not  whether  you  much  wish   to  hear,'  that  I 
am,  Sir, 

"  Your  most  humble  servant, 
"  Bolt-Court,  Fleet-street^  "  Sam.  Johnson." 

August  21,  1780. 

"to  JAMES  BOSWELL,  ESQ. 
"  DEAR  SIR, 

"I  FIND  you  have  taken  one  of  your  fits  of  taci- 
turnity, and  have  resolved  not  to  write  till  you  are  writ- 
ten to  ;  it  is  but  a  peevish  humour,  but  you  shall  have 
your  way. 

"  I  have  sat  at  home  in  Bolt-court,  all  the  summer, 
thinking  to  write  the  Lives,  and  a  great  part  of  the  time 
only  thinking.  Several  of  them,  however,  are  done, 
and  I  still  think  to  do  the  rest. 

"  Mr.  Thrale  and  his  family  have,  since  his  illness, 
passed  their  time  first  at  Bath,  and  then  at  Brighthelms- 
ton  ;  but  I  have  been  at  neither  place.  I  would  have 
gone  to  Lichfield  if  I  could  have  had  time,  and  1  might 
have  had  time  if  1  had  been  active ;  but  1  have  missed 
much,  and  done  little. 

"  In  the  late  disturbances,  Mr.  Thrale's  house  and 
stock  were  in  great  danger  ;  the  mob  was  pacified  at 
their  first  invasion,  with  about  fifty  pounds  in  drink 
and  meat  ;  and  at  their  second,  were  driven  away  by 
the  soldiers.  Mr.  Strahan  got  a  garrison  into  his 
house,  and  maintained  them  a  fortnight  ;  he  was  so 
frighted  that  he  removed  part  of  his  goods.  Mrs. 
Williams  took  shelter  in  the  country. 

"  I  know  not  whether  I  shall  get  a  ramble  this 
autumn  ;  it  is  now  about  the  time  when  we  were  trav- 
elling. I  have,  however,  better  health  than  1  had  then, 
and  hope  you  and  1  may  yet  shew  ourselves  on  some 

J  1  wish  he  had  omitted  the  suspicion  expressed  here,  though  I  believe  he  meant 
nothing  but  jocularity  ;  for  though  he  and  I  differed  sometimes  in  opinion,  he  well 
knew  how  much  I  loved  and  revered  him.    Beattie. 


DR.   JOHNSON.  153 

part  of  Europe,  Asia,  or  Africa.*  In  the  mean  time  I780. 
let  us  play  no  trick,  but  keep  each  other's  kindness  by  JJ^ 
all  means  in  our  power.  ^i  ' 

*'  The  bearer  of  this  is  Dr.  Dunbar  of  Aberdeen, 
who  has  written  and  published  a  very  ingenious  book,^ 
and  who  1  think  has  a  kindness  for  me,  and  will,  when 
he  knows  you,  have  a  kindness  for  you. 

"  i  suppose  your  little  ladies  are  grown  tall  ;  and 
your  son  has  become  a  learned  young  man.  I  love 
them  all,  and  1  love  your  naughty  lady,  whom  1  never 
shall  persuade  to  love  me.  When  the  Lives  are  done, 
I  shall  send  them  to  complete  her  collection,  but  must 
send  them  in  paper,  as  for  want  of  a  pattern,  1  cannot 
bind  them  to  fit  the  rest. 
"  1  am.  Sir, 

"  Yours  most  affectionately, 
"  London,  Aug.  21,  1780.  "  Sam.  Johnson.^' 

This  year  he  wrote  to  a  young  clergyman  in  the 
country  the  following  very  excellent  letter,  which  con- 
tains valuable  advice  to  Divines  in  general  : 

"  DEAR  SIR, 

"  Not  many  days  ago  Dr.  Lawrence  shewed  me 
a  letter,  in  which  you  make  mention  of  me  :  1  hope, 
therefore,  you  will  not  be  displeased  that  1  endeavour 
to  preserve  your  good-will  by  some  observations  which 
your  letter  suggested  to  me. 

"  You  are  afraid  of  falhng  into  some  improprieties 
in  the  daily  service  by  reading  to  an  audience  that  re- 
quires no  exactness.  Your  fear,  i  hope,  secures  you 
from  danger.  They  who  contract  absurd  habits  are 
such  as  have  no  fear.  It  is  impossible  to  do  the  same 
thing  very  often,  without  some  peculiarity  of  manner : 

••  It  will  no  doubt  be  remarked  how  he  avoids  the  reiellious  land  of  America. 
This  puts  me  in  mind  of  an  anecdote  for  which  I  am  obliged  to  my  worthy  social 
friend,  Governour  Richard  Penn  •  "  At  one  of  Miss  E.  Hervey's  assemblies,  Dr. 
Johnson  was  following  her  up  and  down  the  room  ;  upon  which  Lord  Abington 
observed  to  her, '  Your  great  friend  is  very  fond  of  you  ;  you  can  go  no  where 
without  him.'  '  Ay,  (said  she,)  he  would  follow  me  to  any  part  of  the  world.'— 
Then  (said  the  Earl,)  ask  him  to  go  with  you  to  /imerica." 

i  «  Essays  on  the  History  of  Mankind." 


IJi  THE    LIFE    OF 

1780.  but  that  manner  may  be  good  or  bad,  and  a  little  care 
jg^  will  at  least  preserve  it  from  being  bad  :  to  make  it 
71.  good,  there  must,  1  think,  be  something  of  natural  or 
casual  felicity,  which  cannot  be  taught. 

"  Your  present  method  of  making  your  sermons 
seems  very  judicious.  Few  frequent  preachers  can  be 
supposed  to  have  sermons  more  their  own  than  yours 
will  be.  Take  care  to  register,  somewhere  or  other, 
the  authours  from  whom  your  several  discourses  are 
borrowed  ;  and  do  not  imagine  that  you  shall  always 
remember,  even  what  perhaps  you  now  think  it  impos- 
sible to  forget. 

"  My  advice,  however,  is,  that  you  attempt,  from 
time  to  time,  an  original  sermon  ;  and  in  the  labour  of 
composition,  do  not  burden  your  mind  with  too  much 
at  once  ;  do  not  exact  from  yourself  at  one  effort  of 
excogitation,  propriety  of  thought  and  elegance  of  ex- 
pression. Invent  first,  and  then  embellish.  The  pro- 
duction of  something,  where  nothing  was  before,  is  an 
act  of  greater  energy  than  the  expansion  or  decoration 
of  the  thing  produced.  Set  down  diligently  your 
thoughts  as  they  rise  in  the  first  words  that  occur ;  and 
"when  you  have  matter,  you  will  easily  give  it  form  : 
nor,  perhaps,  will  this  method  be  always  necessary  ; 
for  by  habit,  your  thoughts  and  diction  will  flow 
together. 

"  The  composition  of  sermons  is  not  very  difficult  : 
the  divisions  not  only  help  the  memory  of  the  hearer, 
but  direct  the  judgement  of  the  writer  ;  they  supply 
sources  of  invention,  and  keep  every  part  in  its  proper 
place. 

*'  What  I  like  least  in  your  letter  is  your  account  of 
the  manners  of  your  parish  ;  from  which  I  gather,  that 
it  has  been  long  neglected  by  the  parson.  The  Dean 
of  Carlisle,^  who  was  then  a  little  rector  in  Northamp- 
tonshire, told  me,  that  it  might  be  discerned  whether 
or  no  there  was  a  clergyman  resident  in  a  parish,  by 
the  civil  or  savage  manner  of  the  people.  Such  a  con- 
gregation as  yours  stands  in  need  of  much  reformation  ; 

•■  Dr.  Percy,  now  Bishop  of  Droraore. 


DR.   JOHNSON.  135 

and  I  would  not  have  you  think  it  impossible  to  reform  1730. 
them.  A  very  savage  parish  was  civilized  by  a  decay-  ^gj^ 
ed  gentlewoman,  who  came  among  them  to  teach  a  71, ' 
petty  school.  My  learned  friend  Dr.  Wheeler  of  Ox- 
ford, when  he  was  a  young  man,  had  the  care  of  a 
neighbouring  parish  for  fifteen  pounds  a  year,  which 
he  was  never  paid  ;  but  he  counted  it  a  convenience, 
that  it  compelled  him  to  make  a  sermon  weekly.  One 
woman  he  could  not  bring  to  the  communion  ;  and 
when  he  reproved  or  exhorted  her,  she  only  answered, 
that  she  was  no  scholar.  He  was  advised  to  set  some 
good  woman  or  man  of  the  parish,  a  little  wiser  than 
herself,  to  talk  to  her  in  a  language  level  to  her  mind. 
Such  honest,  I  may  call  them  holy,  artifices,  must  be 
practised  by  every  clergyman  ;  for  all  means  must  be 
tried  by  which  souls  may  be  saved.  Talk  to  your 
people,  however,  as  much  as  you  can  ;  and  you  will 
find,  that  the  more  frequently  you  converse  with  them 
upon  religious  subjects,  the  more  willingly  they  will 
attend,  and  the  more  submissively  they  will  learn.  A 
clergyman's  diligence  always  makes  him  venerable.  I 
think  I  have  now  only  to  say,  that  in  the  momentous 
work  you  have  undertaken,  1  pray  God  to  bless  you. 
"  I  am.  Sir, 

"  Your  most  humble  servant, 
"  BolUcourt,  Aug.  30,  1780.         "  Sam.  Johnson." 

My  next  letters  to  him  were  dated  August  24,  Sep- 
tember 6,  and  October  1,  and  from  them  1  extract  the 
following  passages  : 

"  My  brother  David  and  I  find  the  long  indulged 
fancy  of  our  comfortable  meeting  again  at  Auchinleck, 
90  well  realized,  that  it  in  some  degree  confirms  the 
pleasing  hope  of  0  /  preclarum  diem  !  in  a  future  state. 

"  I  beg  that  you  may  never  again  harbour  a  suspicion 
of  my  indulgmg  a  peevish  humour,  or  playing  tricks  ; 
you  will  recollect,  that  when  I  confessed  to  you,  that  I 
had  once  been  intentionally  silent  to  try  your  regard,  I 
gave  you  my  word  and  honour  that  I  would  not  do  so 
again. 


136  THE    LIFE   OF 

1780.  "  I  rejoice  to  hear  of  your  good  state  of  health  ;  1 
"^^  pray  God  to  continue  it  long.  1  have  often  said,  that 
71.  1  would  willingly  have  ten  years  added  to  my  life,  to 
have  ten  taken  from  yours  ;  I  mean,  that  I  would  be 
ten  years  older  to  have  you  ten  years  younger.  But 
let  me  be  thankful  for  the  years  during  which  I  have 
enjoyed  your  friendship,  and  please  myself  with  the 
hopes  of  enjoying  it  many  years  to  come  in  this  state  of 
being,  trusting  always,  that  in  another  state,  we  shall 
meet  never  to  be  separated.  Of  this  we  can  form  no 
notion  ;  but  the  thought,  though  indistinct,  is  delight- 
ful, when  the  mind  is  calm  and  clear. 

"  The  riots  in  London  were  certainly  horrible ;  but 
you  give  me  no  account  of  your  own  situation  during 
the  barbarous  anarchy.  A  description  of  it  by  Dr. 
Johnson  would  be  a  great  painting  ;'  you  might  write 
another  'London,  a  Poem.' 

"  I  am  charmed  with  your  condescending  affection- 
ate expression,  '  let  us  keep  each  other's  kindness  by 
all  the  means  in  our  power ;'  my  revered  Friend  !  how 
elevating  is  it  to  my  mind,  that  1  am  found  worthy  to 
be  a  companion  to  Dr.  Samuel  Johnson  !  All  that  you 
have  said  in  grateful  praise  of  Mr.  Walmsley,  1  have 
long  thought  of  you ;  but  we  are  both  Tories,  which 
has  a  very  general  influence  upon  our  sentiments.  I 
hope  that  you  will  agree  to  meet  me  at  York,  about  the 
end  of  this  month  ;  or  if  you  will  come  to  Carlisle,  that 
would  be  better  still,  in  case  the  Dean  be  there.  Please 
to  consider,  that  to  keep  each  other's  kindness,  we 
should  every  year  have  that  free  and  intimate  commu- 
nication of  mind  which  can  be  had  only  when  we  are 
together.  We  should  have  both  our  solemn  and  our 
pleasant  talk." 

"  1  write  now  for  the  third  time,  to  tell  you  that  my 
desire  for  our  meeting  this  autumn  is  much  increased. 
I  wrote  to  'Squire  Godfrey  Bosville,  my  Yorkshire  chief, 
that  I  should,  perhaps,  pay  him  a  visit,  as  1  was  to  hold 
a  conference  with  Dr.  Johnson  at  York.  1  give  you 
my  word  and  honour  that  1  said  not  a  word  of  his  invit- 
ing you ;  but  he  wrote  to  me  as  follows  : 

'  I  had  not  then  seen  his  Letters  to  Mrs.  Thrale. 


DR.    JOHNSON.  \37 

^  I  need  not  tell  you  I  shall  be  happy  to  see  you  ^780. 
here  the  latter  end  of  this  month,  as  you  propose  ;  and  ^^^^ 
I  shall  likewise  be  in  hopes  that  you  will  persuade  Dr.   71.  * 
Johnson   to  finish  the  conference  here.     It  will  add  to 
the  favour  of  your  own  company,  if  you  prevail  upon 
such  an  associate,  to  assist  your  observations.     I  have 
often  been  entertained  with  his  writings,  and  I  once 
belonged  to  a  club  of  which  he  was  a  member,  and  I 
never  spent  an   evening  there,  but  I  heard  something 
from  him  well  worth  remembering.' 

"  We  have  thus,  my  dear  Sir,  good  comfortable  quar- 
ters in  the  neighbourhood  of  York,  where  you  may  be 
assured  we  shall  be  heartily  welcome.  I  pray  you  then 
resolve  to  set  out ;  and  let  not  the  year  1780  be  a  blank 
in  our  social  calendar,  and  in  that  record  of  wisdom  and 
wit,  which  1  keep  with  so  much  diligence,  to  your 
honour,  and  the  instruction  and  delight  of  others." 

Mr.  Thrale  had  now  another  contest  for  the  repre- 
sentation in  parliament  of  the  borough  of  Southwark, 
and  Johnson  kindly  lent  him  his  assistance,  by  writing 
advertisements  and  letters  for  him.  1  shall  insert  one- 
as  a  specimen 


.* 


"  TO  THE    WORTHY    ELECTORS    OF    THE   BOROUGH    OF 
SOUTHWARK. 

"  GENTLEMEN, 

"  A  NEW  Parliament  being  now  called,  I  again 
solicit  the  honour  of  being  elected  for  one  of  your  rep- 
resentatives ;  and  solicit  it  with  the  greater  confidence, 
as  I  am  not  conscious  of  having  neglected  my  duty,  or 
of  having  acted  otherwise  than  as  becomes  the  inde- 
pendent representative  of  independent  constituents  ; 
superiour  to  fear,  hope,  and  expectation,  who  has  no 
private  purposes  to  promote,  and  whose  prosperity  is 
involved  in  the  prosperity  of  his  country.  As  my  re- 
covery from  a  very  severe  distemper  is  not  yet  perfect, 
I  have  declined  to  attend  the  Hall,  and  hope  an  omis- 
sion so  necessary  will  not  be  harshly  censured. 

"  I  can  only  send  my  respectful  wishes^  that  all  your 

VOL.  in.  18 


138  THE    LIFE    OF 

i780.  deliberations  may  tend  to  the  happiness  of  the  king- 
^taT  ^^™>  ^^^  ^^^  peace  of  the  borough. 
71.  "  1  am,  Gentlemen, 

"  Your  most  faithful 

"  And   obedient  servant, 
"  Southwark,  Sept,  o,  1780.  "  Henry  Thrale." 

"  TO    THE    RIGHT    HONOURABLE    LADY    SOUTHWELL,* 

DUBLIN. 

"  MADAM, 

"  Among  the  numerous  addresses,  of  condolence 
which  your  great  loss  must  have  occasioned,  be  pleased 
to  receive  this  from  one  whose  name  perhaps  you  have 
never  heard,  and  to  whom  your  Ladyship  is  known 
only  by  the  reputation  of  your  virtue,  and  to  whom 
your  Lord  was  known  only  by  his  kindness  and  be- 
neficence. 

*'  Your  Ladyship  is  now  again  summoned  to  exert 
that  piety  of  which  yon  once  gave,  in  a  state  of  pain 
and  danger,  so  illustrious  an  example  ;  and  your  Lord's 
beneficence  may  be  still  continued  by  those,  who  with 
his  fortune  inherit  his  virtues. 

"  1  hope  to  be  forgiven  the  liberty  which  I  shall  take 
of  informing  your  Ladyship,  that  Mr.  Mauritius  Lowe, 
a  son  of  your  late  Lord's  father,  5'  had,  by  recommend- 

=  [Margaret,  the  second  daughter  and  one  of  the  co-heiresses  of  Arthur  Cecil 
Hamilton,  Esq.  She  was  married  in  1741  to  Thomas  George,  the  third  Baron, 
and  first  Viscount,  Southwell,  and  lived  with  ■kim  in  the  most  perfect  connubial 
felicity  till  September  1780,  when  Lord  Southwell  died  :  a  loss  which  she  never 
ceased  to  lament  to  the  hour  of  her  own  dissolution,  in  her  eighty-first  year,  Au- 
gust 16,  1802.— The  "  illustrious  example  of  piety  and  fortitude"  to  which  Dr. 
Johnson  alludes,  was  the  submitting,  when  passed  her  fiftieth  year,  to  an  extremely 
painful  surgical  operation,  which  she  endured  with  extraordinary  firmness  and  com- 
posure, not  allowing  herself  to  be  tied  to  her  chair,  nor  uttering  a  single  moan. — 
This  slight  tribute  of  affection  to  the  memory  of  these  two  most  amiable  and  excel- 
lent persons,  who  were  not  less  distinguished  by  their  piety,  beneficence,  and  un- 
bounded charity,  than  by  a  suavity  of  manners  which  endeared  them  to  all  who 
knew  them,  it  is  hoped,  will  be  forgiven  from  one  who  was  honoured  by  their 
kindness  and  friendship  from  his  childhood.     M.] 

'  [Thomas,  the  second  Lord  Southwell,  who  died  in  London,  in  1766.  Johnson 
was  well  acquainted  with  this  nobleman,  and  said,  "  he  was  the  highest  bred  man, 
without  insolence,  thai  he  was  ever  in  company  with."  His  younger  brother, 
Edmund  Southwell,  lived  in  intimacy  with  Johnson  for  many  years.  (See  an 
account  of  him  in  Hawkins's  Life  of  Johnson,  p.  40j.)  He  died  in  London,  Nov. 
'J2,  1772. 


DR.    JOHNSON.  139 

ation  to  your  Lord,  a  quarterly  allowance  of  ten  pounds,  nso. 
the   last  of  which,  due  July  26,   he  has  not  received  :  ^^, 
he  was  in  hourly  hope  of  his  remittance,  and  flattered   71. 
himself  that  on  October  26   he  should  have  received 
the  whole  half  year's  bounty,  when  he  was  struck  with 
the  dreadful  news  of  his  benefactor's  death. 

"  May  1  presume  to  hope,  that  his  want,  his  relation, 
and  his  merit,  which  excited  his  Lordship's  charity, 
will  continue  to  have  the  same  effect  upon  those  whom 
he  has  left  behind  ;  and  that,  though  he  has  lost  one 
friend,  he  may  not  yet  be  destitute.  Your  Ladyship's 
charity  cannot  easily  be  exerted  where  it  is  wanted 
more  ;  and  to  a  mind  like  yours,  distress  is  a  sutficient 
recommendation. 

"  1  hope  to  be  allowed  the  honour  of  being, 
"  Madam, 

"  Your  Ladyship's 

"  Most  humble  servant, 
•^  Bolt-court^  Fhet-streety  "  Sam.  Johnson." 

London^  Sept.  9,  1780. 

On  his  birth-day,  Johnson  has  this  note  ;  "  I  am 
now  beginning  the  seventy-second  year  of  my  life, 
with  more  strength  of  body,  and  greater  vigour  of  mind, 
than  1  think  is  common  at  that  age."  But  still  he  com- 
plains of  sleepless  nights  and  idle  days,  and  forgetful- 
ness,  or  neglect  of  resolutions.  He  thus  pathetically 
expresses  himself  :  "  Surely  I  shall  not  spend  my  whole 
life  with  my  own  total  disapprobation."' 

Mr.  Macbean,  whom  I  have  mentioned  more  than 
once,  as  one  of  Johnson's  humble  friends,  a  deserving 
but  unfortunate  man,  being  now  oppressed  by  age  and 
poverty,  Johnson  solicited  the  Lord  Chancellor  Thur- 
iow,  to  have  him  admitted  into  the  Charter-house.  I 
take  the  liberty  to  insert  his  Lordship's  answer,  as  I 
am  eager  to  embrace  every  occasion  of  augmenting  the 

In  opposition  to  the  Knight's  unfavourable  representation  of  this  gentleman,  to 
whom  1  was  indebted  for  my  first  introduction  to  Johnson,  I  take  this  opportunity 
to  add,  that  he  appeared  to  me  a  pious  man,  and  was  very  fond  of  leading  the  con^ 
versation  to  religious  subjects.     M.] 

'  Prayers  and  Meditations,  p.  185. 


140  THE    LIFE    OF 

1780.  respectable  notion  which  should  ever  be  entertained 
^tat.  ^^  ™y  illustrious  friend  : 
71. 

"  TO  DR.  SAMUEL  JOHNSON. 

"  SIR,  "  London,  October  24,  1780. 

"  1  HAVE  this  moment  received  your  letter  dated 
the  19th,  and  returned  from  Bath. 

"  In  the  beginning  of  the  summer  I  placed  one  in 
the  Chartreux,  without  the  sanction  of  a  recommenda- 
tion so  distinct  and  so  authoritative  as  yours  of  Mac- 
bean  ;  and  1  am  afraid,  that  according  to  the  establish- 
ment of  the  House,  the  opportunity  of  making  the 
charity  so  good  amends  will  not  soon  recur.  But 
whenever  a  vacancy  shall  happen,  if  you'll  favour  me 
with  notice  of  it,  I  will  try  to  recommend  him  to  the 
place,  even  though  it  should  not  be  my  turn  to 
nominate. 

"  I  am,  Sir,  with  great  regard, 

"  Your  most  faithful 
"  And  obedient  servant, 

"  Thurlow." 

"  to  james  boswell,  esq. 

"  DEAR  SIR, 

*'  1  AM  sorry  to  write  you  a  letter  that  will  not 
please  you,  and  yet  it  is  at  last  what  I  resolve  to  do. 
This  year  must  pass  without  an  interview  ;  the  summer 
has  been  foolishly  lost,  like  many  other  of  my  summers 
and  winters.  1  hardly  saw  a  green  field,  but  staid  in 
town  to  work,  without  working  much. 

"  Mr.  Thrale's  loss  of  health  has  lost  him  the  elec- 
tion ;  he  is  now  going  to  Brighthelmston,  and  expects 
me  to  go  with  him  ;  and  how  long  1  shall  stay,  I  cannot 
tell.  1  do  not  much  like  the  place,  but  yet  1  shall  go, 
and  stay  while  my  stay  is  desired.  We  must,  there- 
fore, content  ourselves  with  knowing  what  we  know  as 
well  as  man  can  know  the  mind  of  man,  that  we  love 
one  another,  and  that  we  wish  each  other's  happiness, 
and  that  the  lapse  of  a  year  cannot  lessen  our  mutual 
kindness. 


DR.   JOHNSON.  141 

"  I  was  pleased  to  be  told  that  I  accused  Mrs.  Boswell  1780. 
unjustly,  in  supposing  that  she  bears  me  ill-will.     1  love  ^"^ 
you  so  much,  that  I  would  be  glad  to  love  all  that  love   71. 
you,  and  that  you  love;  and  1  have  love  very  ready  for 
Mrs.  Boswell,  if  she  thinks  it  worthy  of  acceptance.    I 
hope  all  the  young  ladies  and  gentlemen  are  well. 

"  I  take  a  great  liking  to  your  brother.  He  tells  me 
that  his  father  received  him  kindly,  but  not  fondly  ; 
however,  you  seem  to  have  lived  well  enough  at  Au- 
chinleck,  while  you  staid.  Make  your  father  as  happy 
as  you  can. 

"  You  lately  told  me  of  your  health  :  I  can  tell  you 
in  return,  that  my  health  has  been  for  more  than  a  year 
past,  better  than  it  has  been  for  many  years  before. 
Perhaps  it  may  please  God  to  give  us  some  time  togeth- 
er before  we  are  parted. 

"  1  am,  dear  Sir, 

"  Yours  most  affectionately, 
<*  Oct.  17,  1780.  "  Sam.  Johnson." 

["  to  the  reverend  dr.  vyse,  at  lambkth. 

"sir, 

"  I  hope  you  will  forgive  the  liberty  I  take,  in  so- 
liciting your  interposition  with  his  Grace  the  Arch- 
bishop :  my  first  petition  was  successful,  and  I  therefore 
venture  on  a  second. 

"  The  matron  of  the  Chartreux  is  about  to  resign  her 
place,  and  Mrs.  Desmoulins,  a  daughter  of  the  late  Dr. 
Swinfen,*  who  was  well  known  to  your  father,  is  desir- 
ous of  succeeding  her.  She  has  been  accustomed  by 
keeping  a  boarding  school  to  the  care  of  children,  and  I 
think  is  very  likely  to  discharge  her  duty.  She  is  in 
great  distress,  and  therefore  may  properly  receive  the 
benefit  of  a  charitable  foundation.  If  you  wish  to  see 
her,  she  will  be  willing  to  give  an  account  of  herself. 

"  If  you  shall  be  pleased.  Sir,  to  mention  her  favour- 
ably to  his  Grace,  you  will  do  a  great  act  of  kindness  to, 
Sir,  "  Your  most  obliged 

"  And  most  humble  Servant, 
"  December  30,  1780.  "  Sam.  Johnson." 

*  [See  vol  I.  p.  66.    M.] 


14S  THE    LIFE    OF 

1780.  Being  disappointed  in  my  hopes  of  meeting  John- 
^"^  son  this  year,  so  that  I  could  hear  none  of  his  admira- 
71.  ble  sayings,  I  shall  compensate  for  this  want  by  in- 
serting a  collection  of  them,  for  which  I  am  indebted  to 
my  worthy  friend  Mr.  Langton,  whose  kind  communi- 
cations have  been  separately  interwoven  in  many  parts 
of  this  work.  Very  few  articles  of  this  collection  were 
committed  to  writing  by  himself,  he  not  having  that 
habit ;  which  he  regrets,  and  which  those  who  know 
the  numerous  opportunities  he  had  of  gathering  the 
rich  fruits  of  Johnsonian  wit  and  wisdom,  must  ever 
regret.  1  however  found,  in  conversation  with  him, 
that  a  good  store  of  Johnsoniana  was  treasured  in  his 
mind;  and  I  compared  it  to  Herculaneum,  or  some  old 
Roman  field,  which  when  dug,  fully  rewards  the  labt)ur 
employed.  The  authenticity  of  every  article  is  un- 
questionable. For  the  expression,  1,  who  wrote  them 
down  in  his  presence,  am  partly  answerable. 

"  Theocritus  is  not  deserving  of  very  high  respect  as 
a  writer ;  as  to  the  pastoral  part,  Virgil  is  very  evident- 
ly superiour.  He  wrote  when  there  had  been  a  larger 
influx  of  knowledge  into  the  world  than  when  I  heo- 
critus  lived.  Theocritus  does  not  abound  in  descrip- 
tion, though  living  in  a  beautiful  country  :  the  manners 
painted  are  coarse  and  gross.  Virgil  has  much  more 
description,  more  sentiment,  more  of  nature,  and  morfe 
of  art.  Some  of  the  most  excellent  parts  of  Theocri- 
tus are,  where  Castor  and  Pollux,  going  with  the  other 
Argonauts,  land  on  the  Bebrycian  coast,  and  there  fall 
into  a  dispute  with  Amycus,  the  King  of  that  country  ; 
which"  is  as  well  conducted  as  Euripides  could  have  done 
it  ;  and  the  battle  is  well  related.  Afterwards  they 
carry  off  a  woman,  whose  two  brothers  come  to  re- 
cover her,  and  expostulate  with  Castor  and  Pollux  on 
their  injustice  ;  but  they  pay  no  regard  to  the  brothers, 
and  a  battle  ensues,  where  Castor  and  his  brother  are 
triumphant. — Theocritus  seems  not  to  have  seen  that 
the  brothers  have  the  advantage  in  their  argument  over 
his  Argonaut  heroes. — '  The  Sicilian  Gossips'  is  a  piece 
of  merit." 


DR.   JOHNSON.  143 

"  Caliimachus  is  a  writer  of  little  excellence.     The  1780. 
chief  thing  to  be  learned  from   him  is  his  account  of^J^ 
Rites  and  Mythology  ;  which,  though   desirable  to  be   71.  ' 
known  for  the  sake  of  understanding  other  parts  of  an- 
cient authours,  is  the  less  pleasing  or  valuable  part  of 
their  writings." 

"  Mattaire's  account  of  the  Stephani  is  a  heavy  book. 
He  seems  to  have  been  a  puzzle-headed  man,  with  a 
large  share  of  scholarship,  but  with  little  geometry 
or  logick  in  his  head,  without  method,  and  possess- 
ed of  little  genius.  He  wrote  Latin  verses  from  time 
to  time,  and  published  a  set  in  his  old  age,  which  he 
called  '  Seailia ;'  in  which  he  shews  so  little  learning 
or  taste  in  writing,  as  to  make  Carteret  di  dactyl. — In 
matters  of  geneology  it  is  necessary  to  give  the  bare 
names  as  they  are  ;  but  in  poetry,  and  in  prose  of  any 
elegance  in  the  writing,  they  require  to  have  in- 
flection given  to  them. — His  book  of  the  Dialects  is  a 
sad  heap  of  confusion  ;  the  only  way  to  write  on  them 
is  to  tabulate  them  with  Notes,  added  at  the  bottom 
of  the  page,   and  references." 

"  It  may  be  questioned,  whether  there  is  not  some 
mistake  as  to  the  methods  of  employing  the  poor, 
seemingly  on  a  supposition  that  there  is  a  certain  por- 
tion of  work  left  undone  for  want  of  persons  to  do  it  ; 
but  if  that  is  otherwise,  and  all  the  materials  we  have 
are  actually  worked  up,  or  all  the  manufactures  we  can 
use  or  dispose  of  are  already  executed,  then  what  is 
given  to  the  poor,  who  are  to  be  set  at  work,  must  be 
taken  from  some  who  now  have  it :  as  time  must  be 
taken  for  learning,  (according  to  Sir  William  Petty's 
observation,)  a  certain  part  of  those  very  materials  that, 
as  it  is,  are  properly  worked  up,  must  be  spoiled  by 
the  unskilfulness  of  novices.  We  may  apply  to  well- 
meaning,  but  misjudging  persons  in  particulars  of  this 
nature,  what  Giannone  said  to  a  monk,  who  wanted 
what  he  called  to  convert  him  :  "  T;/  sri  santo^  ma  ftf 
non  sei  filosopho.^'* — It  is  an  unhappy  circumstance  that 
one  might  give  away  five  hundred  pounds  in  a  year  to 
those  that  importune  in  the  streets,  and  not  do  any 
good." 


144  THE    LIFE    OP 

1780.       "  There  is  nothing  more  likely  to  betray  a  man  into 

^taT  absurdity,  than  condescension  ;  when  he  seems  to  sup*- 

71.    pose  his  understanding  too  powerful  for  his  company/^ 

"  Having  asked  Mr.  Langton  if  his  father  and  mother 
had  sat  for  their  pictures,  which  he  thought  it  right  for 
each  generation  of  a  family  to  do,  and  being  told  they 
had  opposed  it,  he  said,  "  Sir,  among  the  anfractuosi- 
ties  of  the  human  mind,  1  know  not  if  it  may  not  be 
one,  that  there  is  a  superstitious  reluctance  to  sit  for  a 
picture." 

"  John  Gilbert  Cooper  related,  that  soon  after  the 
publication  of  his  Dictionary,  Garrick  being  asked  by 
Johnson  what  people  said  of  it,  told  him,  that  among 
other  animadversions,  it  was  objected  that  he  cited  au- 
thorities which  were  beneath  the  dignity  of  such  a 
work,  and  mentioned  Richardson.  '  Nay,  (said  John- 
son,) 1  have  done  worse  than  that :  1  have  cited  thee, 
David." 

"  Talking  of  expence,  he  observed,  with  what  mu- 
^  nificence  a  great  merchant  will  spend  his  money,  both 
from  his  having  it  at  command,  and  from  his  enlarged 
views  by  calculation  of  a  good  effect  upon  the  whole. 
*  Whereas  (said  he)  you  will  hardly  ever  find  a  coun- 
try gentleman,  who  is  not  a  good  deal  disconcerted  at 
an  unexpected  occasion  for  his  being  obliged  to  lay 
out  ten  pounds." 

"  When  in  good  humour,  he  would  talk  of  his  own 
writings  with  a  wonderful  frankness  and  candour,  and 
would  even  criticise  them  with  the  closest  severity. 
One  day,  having  read  over  one  of  his  Ramblers,  Mr. 
Langton  asked  him,  how  he  liked  that  paper  ;  he  shook 
his  head,  and  answered,  '  too  wordy.*  At  another 
time,  when  one  was  reading  his  tragedy  of  '  Irene,'  to 
a  company  at  a  house  in  the  country,  he  left  the  room  : 
and  somebody  having  asked  him  the  reason  of  this,  he 
replied,  Sir,  1  thought  it  had  been  better." 

"  Talking  of  a  point  of  delicate  scrupulosity  of  moral 
conduct,  he  said  to  Mr.  Langton,  '  Men  of  harder 
minds  than  ours  will  do  many  things  from  which  you 
and  1  would  shrink  ;  yet.  Sir,  they  will,  perhaps  do 
more  good  in  life  than  we.     But  let  us  try  to  help  one 


DR.   JOHNSON.  145 

another.  If  there  be  a  wrong  twist,  it  may  be  set  1780. 
right.  It  is  not  probable  that  two  people  can  be  wrong  ^uu 
the  same  way."  7t. 

"  Of  the  Preface  to  CapePs  Shakspeare,  he  said, 
'  If  the  man  would  have  come  to  me,  I  would  have 
endeavoured  to  '  endow  his  purposes  with  words  ;'  for 
as  it  is,  he  doth  '  gabble  monstrously." 

"  He  related,  that  he  had  once  in  a  dream  a  contest 
of  wit  with  some  other  person,  and  that  he  was  very 
much  mortified  by  imagining  that  his  opponent  had 
the  better  of  him.  '  Now,  (said  he,)  one  may  mark 
here  the  effect  of  sleep  in  weakening  the  power  of  re- 
flection ;  for  had  not  my  judgement  failed  me,  I  should 
have  seen,  that  the  wit  of  this  supposed  antagonist,  by 
whose  superiority  I  felt  myself  depressed,  was  as  much 
furnished  by  me,  as  that  which  I  thought  1  had  been 
uttering  in  my  own  character." 

"  One  evening  in  company,  an  ingenious  and  learn- 
ed gentleman  read  to  him  a  letter  of  compliment  which 
he  had  received  from  one  of  the  Professors  of  a  Foreign 
University.  Johnson,  in  an  irritable  fit,  thinking  there 
was  too  much  ostentation,  said,  '  I  never  receive  any 
of  these  tributes  of  applause  from  abroad.  One  instance 
I  recollect  of  a  foreign  publication,  in  which  mention 
is  made  of  rUlustre  Lockman" ' 

"  Of  Sir  Joshua  Reynolds,  he  said,  '  Sir,  I  know  no 
man  who  has  passed  through  life  with  more  observa- 
tion than  Reynolds." 

"  He  repeated  to  Mr.  Langton,  with  great  energy, 
in  the  Greek,  our  Saviour's  gracious  expressi<>n  con- 
cernino-  the  forgiveness  of  Mary  Magdalen,^  H  ■^i,jrii 
Tov  (TijuKi  af  TTo^iuoviicufm'.y.  "  Thy  faith  hath  saved  tnee  ; 
go  ni  peace." ^  He  said,  'the  manner  of  this  dismis- 
sion is  exceedingly  affecting." 

"  He  thus  defined  the  difference  between  physical 
and  mora!  truth  :  '  Physical  truth,  is,  when  you  tell  a 
thing  as  it  actually  is.     ^Nloral  truth,  is,  when  you  tell 

'  Secretary  to  the  British  Herring  Fishery,  remarkable  for  an  extraordinary  num- 
ber of  occasional  verses,  not  of  eminent  merit. 

2  [It  docs  not  appear  that  the  woman  forgiven  was  Mary  Magdalen.     K.] 
^  Luke  vii.  50. 
VOL.  III.  19 


146  THE    LIFE    OF 

1780.  a  thing  sincerely  and  precisely  as  it  appears  to  you.  I 
^^^^  say  such  a  one  walked  across  the  street  ;  if  he  really 
71,  did  so,  I  told  a  physical  truth.  If  I  thought  so,  though 
1  should  have  been  mistaken,  I  told  a  moral  truth."* 

"  Huggins,  the  translator  of  Ariosto,  and  Mr.  Thom- 
as Warton,  in  the  early  part  of  his  literary  life,  had  a 
dispute  concerning  that  poet,  of  whom  Mr.  Warton, 
on  his  '  Observations  on  Spenser's  Fairy  Queen,'  gave 
some  account  which  Huggins  attempted  to  answer  with 
violence,  and  said,  '  I  will  militate  no  longer  against 
his  nescience'  Huggins  was  master  of  the  subject,  but 
wanted  expression.  Mr.  Warton 's  knowledge  of  it 
was  then  imperfect,  but  his  manner  lively  and  elegant. 
Johnson  said,  '  It  appears  to  me,  that  Huggins  has  ball 
without  powder,  and  Warton  powder  without  ball." 

"  Talking  of  the  Farce  of  '  High  Life  below  Stairs,' 
he  said,  '  Here  is  a  Farce,  which  is  really  very  diverting, 
when  you  see  it  acted  ;  and  yet  one  may  read  it,  and 
not  know  that  one  has  been  reading  any  thing  at  all." 

"  He  used  at  one  time  to  go  occasionally  to  the 
green-room  of  Drury-lane  Theatre,  where  he  was 
much  regarded  by  the  players,  and  was  very  easy  and 
facetious  with  them.  He  had  a  very  high  opinion  of 
Mrs.  Clive's  comick  powers,  and  conversed  more  with 
her  than  with  any  of  them.  He  said,  '  Clive,  Sir,  is  a 
good  thing  to  sit  by  ;  she  always  understands  what 
you  say.'  And  she  said  of  him,  '  I  love  to  sit  by 
Dr.  Johnson  ;  he  always  entertains  me.'  One  night, 
when  'The  Recruiting  Officer'-vvas  acted,  he  said  to 
Mr.  Holland,  who  had  been  expressing  an  apprehen- 
sion that  Dr.  Johnson  would  disdain  the  works  of  Far- 
quhar  ;  *  No,  Sir,  1  think  Farquhar  a  man  whose  writ- 
ings have  considerable  merit." 

"  His  friend  Garrick  was  so  busy  in  conducting  the 
drama,  that  they  could  not  have  so  much  intercourse 
as  Mr.  Garrick  used  to  profess  an  anxious  wish  that 
there  should  be.'     There  might,  indeed,  be  something 

"  [This  account  of  the  difference  between  moral  and  physical  truth  is  in  Locke's 
"  Essay  on  Human  Understanding,"  and  many  other  books.     K.] 

'  [In  a  letter  written  by  Johnson  to  a  friend  in  Jan.  1742—3,  he  says, "  I  never 
see  Garrick."     M.] 


DR.    JOHNSON.  147 

in  the  contemptuous  seventy  as  to  the  merit  of  act-  '780. 
ing,  which   his   old   preceptor  nourished    in    himself,  '^{^ 
that  would  mortify  Garrick  after  the  great  applause   71.  * 
which  he  received  from  the  audience.     For  though 
Johnson  said  of  him,  '  Sir,  a  man  who  has  a  nation  to 
admire  him  every  night,  may  well  be  expected   to  be 
somewhat  elated  ;'  yet  he  would  treat  theatrical  mat- 
ters with  a  ludicrous  slight.     He  mentioned  one  eve- 
ning, '  I  met  David  coming  off  the  stage,  drest  in  a  wo- 
man's riding  hood,  when  he  acted  in    The  Wonder ;  I 
came  full  upon  him,  and  1  believe  he  was  not  pleased." 

"  Once  he  asked  Tom  Davies,  whom  he  saw  drest 
in  a  fine  suit  of  clothes,  *  And  what  art  thou  to- 
night V  Tom  answered,  '  The  Thane  of  Ross  ;' 
(which  it  will  be  recollected  is  a  very  inconsiderable 
character.)     '  O  brave  !'  said  Johnson." 

"  Of  Mr.  Longley,  at  Rochester,  a  gentleman  of 
very  considerable  learning,  whom  Dr.  Johnson  met 
there,  he  said,  '  My  heart  warms  towards  him.  1  was 
surprized  to  find  in  him  such  a  nice  acquaintance  with 
the  metre  in  the  learned  languages  :  though  I  was 
somewhat  mortified  that  I  had  it  not  so  much  to  my- 
self, as  1  should  have  thought." 

"  Talking  of  the  minuteness  with  which  people  will 
record  the  sayings  of  eminent  persons,  a  story  was  told, 
that  when  Pope  was  on  a  visit  to  Spence  at  Oxford,  as 
they  looked  from  the  window  they  saw  a  Gentleman 
Commoner,  who  was  just  come  in  from  riding,  amus- 
ing himself  with  whipping  at  a  post.  Pope  took  occa- 
sion to  say,  '  That  young  gentleman  seems  to  have 
httle  to  do.'  Mr.  Beauclerk  observed,  '  Then,  to  be 
sure,  Spence  turned  round  and  wrote  that  down  ;'  and 
went  on  to  say  to  Dr.  Johnson,  '  Pope,  Sir,  would 
have  said  the  same  of  you,  if  he  had  seen  you  distill- 
ing.' Johnson.  '  Sir,  if  Pope,  had  told  me  of  my 
distilling,  I  would  have  told  him  of  his  grotto." 

"  He  would  allow  no  settled  indulgence  of  idleness 
upon  principle,  and  always  repelled  every  attempt  to 
urge  excuses  for  it.  A  friend  one  day  suggested,  that 
it  was  not  wholesome  to  study  soon  after  dinner. 
Johnson.  '  Ah,  Sir,  don't  give  way  to  such  a  fancy. 


148  THE    LIFE    OF 

1780.  At  one  time  of  my  life  1  had  taken  it  into  my  head 
2J^  that  it  was  not  wholesome  to  study  between  breakfast 
7j.    and  dinner." 

"  Mr.  Beauclerk  one  day  repeated  to  Dr.  Johnson, 
Pope's  lines, 

*  Let  modest  Foster,  if  he  will,  excel 
'  Ten  metropolitans  in  preaching  well  :' 

Then  asked  the  Doctor,  '  Why  did  Pope  say  this  '' 
Johnson.  '  Sir,  he  hoped  it  would  vex  somebody." 

*'  Dr.  Goldsmith,  upon  occasion  of  Mrs.  Lenox's 
bringing  out  a  play,'^  said  to  Dr.  Johnson  at  the  Club, 
that  a  person  had  advised  him  to  go  and  hiss  it,  be- 
cause she  had  attacked  Shakspeare  in  her  book  called 
'  Shakspeare  Illustrated.'  Johnson.  '  And  did  not 
you  tell  him  that  he  was  a  rascal  !'  Goldsmith. 
*  No,  Sir,  1  did  not.  Perhaps  he  might  not  mean  what 
he  said.'  Johnson.  '  Nay,  Sir,  if  he  lied,  it  is  a  dif- 
ferent thing.'  Colman  slily  said,  (but  it  is  believed 
Dr.  Johnson  did  not  hear  him,)  '  Then  the  proper  ex- 
pression should  have  been, — Sir,  if  you  don't  lie,  you're 
a  rascal." 

"  His  affection  for  Topham  Beauclerk  was  so  great, 
that  when  Beauclerk  was  labouring  under  that  severe 
illness  which  at  last  occasioned  his  death,  Johnson 
said,  (with  a  voice  faltering  with  emotion,)  '  Sir,  I 
would  walk  to  the  extent  of  the  diameter  of  the  earth 
to  save  Beauclerk." 

"  One  night  at  the  Club  he  produced  a  translation 
of  an  Epitaph  which  Lord  Elibank  had  written  in  Eng- 
lish, for  his  Lady,  and  requested  of  .Johnson  to  turn  it 
into  Latin  for  him.  Having  read  Dom'ma  de  North  et 
Gray,  he  said  to  Dyer,'  '  You  see,  Sir,  what  barbar- 
ism we  are  compelled  to  make  use  of,  when  modern 
titles  are  to  be  specifically  mentioned  in  Latin  inscrip- 
tions.' When  he  had  read  it  once  aloud,  and  there 
had  been  a  general  approbation  expressed  by  the  com- 

«  [Probably  "  The  Sisters,"  a  comedy  performed  one  night  only,  at  Covent  Gar- 
den, in  176'9.  Dr.  Goldsmith  wrote  an  excellent  epilogue  to  it. — Mrs.  Lenox, 
whose  maiden  name  was  Ramsay,  died  in  London  in  distressed  circumstances,  in  her 
eighty-fourth  year,  January  4,  1804.     M.] 

/-  [See  Vol.  i.  p.  400.     M.J 


DR.   JOHNSON.  149 

pany,  he  addressed  himself  to  Mr.  Dyer  in  particular,  J780. 
and' said,  'Sir,   1  beg  to  have  your  judgement,  for  I  ^J^ 
know  your  nicety.'     Dyer  then  very  properly  desired    71. 
to  read  it  over  again  ;  which  having  done,  he  pointed 
out  an   incongruity  in  one  of  the  sentences.     Johnson 
immediately  assented  to  the  observation,  and  said,  '  Sir, 
this  is  owing  to  an  alteration  of  a  part  of  the  sentence, 
from  the  form  in  which  I  had  first  written  it  ;  and  I 
believe.  Sir,  you  may  have  remarked,  that  the  making 
a  partial  change,  without  a  due  regard  to  the  general 
structure  of  the  sentence,  is  a  very  frequent  cause  of 
errour  in  composition." 

"  Johnson  was  well  acquainted  with  Mr.  Dossie,  au- 
thour  of  a  treatise  on  Agriculture  ;  and  said  of  him, 
*  Sir,  of  the  objects  which  the  Society  of  Arts  have  chief- 
ly in  view,  the  chymical  effects  of  bodies  operating  up- 
on other  bodies,  he  knows  more  than  almost  any  man.' 
Johnson,  in  order  to  give  Mr.  Dossie  his  vote  to  be  a 
member  of  this  Society,  paid  up  an  arrear  which  had 
run  on  for  two  years.  On  this  occasion  he  mentioned 
a  circumstance,  as  characteristick  of  the  Scotch.  '  One 
of  that  nation,  (said  he,)  who  had  been  a  candidate, 
against  whom  1  had  voted,  came  up  to  me  with  a  civil 
salutation.  Now,  Sir,  this  is  their  way.  An  English- 
man would  have  stomached  it,  and  been  sulky,  and 
never  have  taken  further  notice  of  you  ;  but  a  Scothman, 
Sir,  though  you  vote  nineteen  times  against  him,  will 
accost  you  with  equal  complaisance  after  each  time, 
and  the  twentieth  time,  Sir,  he  will  get  your  vote." 

"  Talking  on  the  subject  of  toleration,  one  day 
when  some  friends  were  with  him  in  his  study,  he 
made  his  usual  remark,  that  tl;ie  State  has  a  right  to 
regulate  the  religion  of  the  people,'  who  are  the  chil- 
dren of  the  State.  A  clergyman  having  readily  ac- 
quiesced in  this,  Johnson,  who  loved  discussion,  ob- 
served, '  But,  Sir,  you  must  go  round  to  other  States 
than  our  own.  You  do  not  know  what  a  Bramin  has 
to  say  for  himself. «     In  short,  Sir,  1  have  got  no  fur- 

'  Here  Lord  Macartney  remarks,  "  A  Bramin  or  any  cast  of  the  Hindoos  will 
neither  admit  you  to  be  of  their  religion,  nor  be  converted  to  yours  : — a  thing 
which  struck  the  Portuguese  with  the  greatest  astonishment,  when  they  first  discov- 
ered the  East  Indies." 


150  THE    LIFE    OF 

J780.  therthan  this  :  Every  man  has  a  right  to  utter  what  he 
^J^  thinks  truth,  and  every  other  man  has  a  riglit  to  knock 
71.    him  down  for  it.     Martyrdom  is  the  test." 

"  A  man,  he  observed,  should  begin  to  write  soon  : 
for,  if  he  waits  till  his  judgement  is  matured,  his  ina- 
bility, through  want  of  practice  to  express  his  concep- 
tions, will  make  the  disproportion  so  great  between 
what  he  sees,  and  what  he  can  attain,  that  he  will 
probably  be  discouraged  from  writing  at  all.  As  a 
proof  of  the  justness  of  this  remark,  we  may  instance 
what  is  related  of  the  great  Lord  Granville  ;'  that 
after  he  had  written  his  letter  giving  an  account  of  the 
battle  of  Dettingen,  he  said,  '  Here  is  a  letter,  ex- 
pressed in  terms  not  good  enough  for  a  tallow  chandler 
to  have  used." 

"  Talking  of  a  Court-martial  that  was  sitting  upon  a 
very  momentous  publick  occasion,  he  expressed  much 
doubt  of  an  enlightened  decision  ;  and  said,  that  per- 
haps there  was  not  a  member  of  it,  who  in  the  whole 
course  of  his  life,  had  ever  spent  an  hour  by  himself 
in  balancing  probabilities." 

"  Goldsmith  one  day  brought  to  the  Club  a  printed 
Ode,  which  he,  with  others,  had  been  hearing  read  by 
its  authour  in  a  publick  room,  at  the  rate  of  five  shil- 
lings each  for  admission.  One  of  the  company  having 
read  it  aloud.  Dr.  Johnson  said,  '  Bolder  words  and 
more  timorous  meaning,  1  think  never  were  brought 
together." 

"  Talking  of  Gray's  Odes,  he' said,  'They  are  forced 
plants,  raised  in  a  hot-bed  ;  and  they  are  poor  plants  ; 
they  are  but  cucumbers  after  all.'  A  gentleman  pre- 
sent, who  had  been  running  down  Ode-writing  in 
general,  as  a  bad  species  of  poetry,  unluckily  said, 
*  Had  they  been  literally  cucumbers,  they  had  been 
better  things  than  Odes.' — '  Yes,  Sir,  (said  Johnson,) 
for  a  hogJ''' 

"  His  distinction  of  the  different  degrees  of  attain- 
ment of  learning  was  thus  marked  upon  two  occasions. 
Of  Queen  Elizabeth  he  said,  '  She  had  learning  enough 

'  [Jolm,  the  first  Earl  of  Granville,  who  died,  January  2,  1763.    M.] 


DR.   JOHNSON.  151 

to  have  given  dignity  to  a  bishop  ;'  and  of  Mr.  Thomas  1780. 
Davies  he  said,  '  Sir,  Davies  has  learning  enough  to  ^Jj[^ 
give  credit  to  a  clergyman."  71. 

"  He  used  to  quote,  with  great  warmth,  the  saying 
of  Aristotle  recorded  by  Diogenes  Laertius  ;  that  there 
was  the  same  difference  between  one  learned  and  un- 
learned, as  between  the  living  and  the  dead." 

"  It  is  very  remarkable,  that  he  retained  in  his  mem- 
ory very  slight  and  trivial,  as  well  as  important  things. 
As  an  instance  of  this,  it  seems  that  an  inferiour  domes- 
tick  of  the  Duke  of  Leeds  had  attempted  to  celebrate 
his  Grace's  marriage  in  such  homelv  rhymes  as  he  could 
make  ;  and  this  curious  composition  having  been  sung 
to  Dr.  Johnson,  he  got  it  by  heart,  and  used  to  repeat 
it  in  a  very  pleasant  manner.  Two  of  the  stanzas  were 
these : 

'  When  the  Duke  of  Leeds  shall  married  be 
'  To  a  fine  young  lady  of  high  quality, 
'  How  happy  will  that  gentlewoman  be 
'  In  his  Grace  of  Leeds's  good  company. 

*  She  shall  have  all  that's  fine  and  fair, 

*  And  the  best  of  silk  and  satin  shall  wear: 
'  And  ride  in  a  coach  to  take  the  air, 

'  And  have  a  house  in  St.  James's-square.^' 

"  The  correspondent  of  the  Gentleman's  Magazine  who  subscribes  himself  Scioi 
:.us,  furnishes  the  following  supplement : 

"  A  lady  of  my  acquaintance  remembers  to  have  beard  her  imcle  sing  those 
homely  stanzas  more  than  forty-five  years  ago.     He  repeated  the  second  thus ; 

She  shall  breed  young  lords  and  ladies  fair, 
And  ride  abroad  in  a  coach  and  three  pair. 
And  the  best,  &c. 
And  have  a  house,  &c. 

And  remembered  a  third  which  seems  to  have  been  the  Introductory  one,  and  f? 
believed  to  have  been  the  only  remaining  one  : 

When  the  Duke  of  Leeds  shall  have  made  his  choice 
Of  a  charming  young  lady  that's  beautiful  and  wise. 
She'll  be  the  happiest  young  gentlewoman  under  the  sides, 
As  long  as  the  sun  and  moon  shall  rise, 
And  how  happy  shall,  &c. 

It  is  with  pleasure  I  add  that  this  stagza  conW  «evCT  he  mere  tfuly  applied  than 
at  this  present  time  [1792.] 


152  THE    LIFE    OF 

1780.  To  hear  a  man,  of  the  weight  and  dignity  of  Johnson, 
^^^  repeating  such  humble  attempts  at  poetry,   had  a  very 
71.    amusing  effect.     He,  however,  seriously  observed  of 
the  last  stanza  repeated  by  him,  that  it  nearly  compris- 
ed all  the  advantages  that  wealth  can  give.^' 

"  An  eminent  foreigner,  when  he  was  shewn  the 
Brhtish  Museum,  was  very  troublesome  with  many  ab- 
surd enquiries.  '  Now  there.  Sir,  (said  he,)  is  the  dif- 
ference between  an  Englishman  and  a  Frenchman.  A 
Frenchman  niust  be  always  talking,  whether  he  knows 
any  thing  of  the  matter  or  not  ;  an  Englishman  is  con- 
tent to  say  nothing,  when  he  has  nothing  to  say." 

"  His  unjust  contempt  for  foreigners  was,  indeed,  ex- 
treme. One  evening,  at  Old  Slaughter's  coffee-house, 
when  a  number  of  them  were  talking  loud  about  little 
matters,  he  said,  '  Does  not  this  confirm  old  Meynell's 
observation — For  any  thing  I  see,  foreigners  are 
foolsr 

"  He  said,  that  once,  when  he  had  a  violent  tooth-ach, 
a  Frenchman  accosted  him  thus:  Ah,  Monsieur,  vous 
etudiez  trop" 

"  Having  spent  an  evening  at  Mr.  Langton's,  with 
the  Reverend  Dr.  Parr,  he  was  much  pleased  with  the 
conversation  of  that  learned  gentleman  ;  and,  after  he 
was  gone,  said  to  Mr.  Langton,  '  Sir,  I  am  obliged  to 
you  for  having  asked  me  this  evening.  Parr  is  a  fair 
man.^  I  do  not  know  when  I  have  had  an  occasion 
of  such  free  controversy.  It  is  remarkable  how  much 
of  a  man's  life  may  pass  without  meeting  with  any  in- 
stance of  this  kind  of  open  discussion." 

"  We  may  fairly  institute  a  criticism  between  Shak- 
speare  and  Corneille,  as  they  both  had,  though  in  a 
different  degree,  the  lights  of  a  latter  age.  It  is  not  so 
just  between  the  Greek  dramatick  writers  and  Shak- 
speare.  It  may  be  replied  to  what  is  said  by  one  of  the 
remarkers  on  Shakspeare,  that  though  Darius's  shade 
had  prescience,  it  does  not  necessarily  follow  that  he 
had  z\\  past  particulars  revealed  to  him." 

^  [When  the  Corporation  of  Norwich  applied  to  Johnson  to  point  out  to  them  ? 
proper  master  for  their  Grammer-Schoo!  he  recommended  Dr.  Parr,  on  his  ceae- 
ing  to  be  usher  to  Sumner  at  Harrow.     B.] 


DR.   JOHNSON.  155 

"  Spanish  plays,  being  wildly  and  improbably  farci-  1780. 
cal,  would  please  children  here,  as  children  are  enter-  ^"^ 
tained  with  stories  full  of  prodigies  ;  their  experience  71, 
not  being  sufficient  to  cause  them  to  be  so  readily 
startled  at  deviations  from  the  natural  course  of  life. 
The  machinery  of  the  Pagans  is  uninteresting  to  us  : 
when  a  Goddess  appears  in  Hon)er  or  \  irgil,  we  grow 
weary  ;  still  more  so  in  the  Grecian  tragedies,  as  in 
that  kind  of  composition  a  nearer  approach  to  Nature 
is  intended.  Yet  there  are  good  reasons  for  reading 
romances  ;  as — the  fertility  of  invention,  the  beauty 
of  style  and  expression,  the  curiosity  of  seeing  with 
what  kind  of  performances  the  age  and  country  in 
which  they  were  written  was  delighted  :  for  it  is  to  be 
apprehended,  that  at  the  time  when  very  wild  improb- 
able tales  were  well  received,  the  people  were  in  a 
barbarous  state,  and  so  on  the  footing  of  children,  as 
has  been  explained." 

*'  It  is  evident  enough  that  no  one  who  writes  now 
can  use  the  Pagan  deities  and  mythology  ;  the  only 
machinery,  therefore,  seems  that  of  ministering  spirits, 
the  ghosts  of  the  departed,  witches,  and  fairies,  though 
these  latter,  as  the  vulgar  superstition  concerning  them 
(which,  while  in  its  force,  infected  at  least  the  imagin- 
ation of  those  that  had  more  advantage  in  education, 
though  their  reason  set  them  free  from  it,)  is  every  day 
wearing  out,  seem  likely  to  be  of  little  further  assist- 
ance in  the  machinery  of  poetry.  As  1  recollect, 
Hammond  introduces  a  hag  or  witch  into  one  of  his 
love  elegies,  where  the  effect  is  unmeaning  and  dis- 
gusting." 

"  The  man  who  uses  his  talent  of  ridicule  in  creating 
or  grossly  exaggerating  the  instances  he  gives,  who 
imputes  absurdities  that  did  not  happen,  or  when  a 
man  was  a  little  ridiculous,  describes  him  as  having 
been  very  much  so,  abuses  his  talents  greatly.  The 
great  use  of  delineating  absurdities  is,  that  we  may 
know  how  far  human  folly  can  go  ;  the  account,  there- 
fore, ought  of  absolute  necessity  to  be  faithful.  A 
certain  character  (naming  the  person)  as  to  the  general 
cast  of  it,  is  well  described  by  Garrick,  but  a  great  deal 

VOL.  III.  5() 


154.  THK    LIFE   OF 

1780.  of  the  phraseology  he  uses  in  it,  is  quite  his  own,  par- 

]^^  ticularly  in  the  proverbial  comparisons,  '  obstinatr  as 

71.    a  pig,'  &c.  but  1  don't  know  whether  it  might  nut  be 

true  of  Lord ,  that  from  a  too  great  enj^erness 

of  praise  and  popularity,  and  a  pohteness  carried  to  a 
ridiculous  excess,  he  was  hkely,  after  asserting  a  thing 
in  general,  to  give  it  up  again  in  parts.  For  instance, 
if  he  had  said  Reynolds  was  the  first  of  painters,  he 
was  capable  enough  of  giving  up,  as  objections  might 
happen  to  be  severally  made,  first,  his  outline, — then 
the  grace  in  form, — then  the  colouring, — and  lastly,  to 
have  owned  that  he  was  such  a  mannerist,  that  the 
disposition  of  his  pictures  was  all  alike." 

"  For  hospitality,  as  formerly  practised,  there  is  no 
longer  the  same  reason  ;  heretofore  the  poorer  people 
were  more  numerous,  and  from  want  of  commerce, 
their  means  of  getting  a  livelihood  more  difficult  ; 
therefore  the  supporting  them  was  an  act  of  great  be- 
nevolence ;  now  that  the  poor  can  find  maintenance 
for  themselves,  and  their  labour  is  wanted,  a  general 
undiscerning  hospitality  tends  to  ill,  by  withdrawing 
them  from  their  work  to  idleness  and  drunkenness. 
Then,  formerly  rents  were  received  in  kind,  so  that 
there  was  a  great  abundance  of  provisions  in  possession 
of  the  owners  of  the  lands,  which  since  the  plenty  of 
money  afforded  by  commerce,  is  no  longer  the  case." 
"  Plospitality  to  strangers  and  foreigners  in  our  coun- 
try is  now  almost  at  an  end,  since,  from  the  increase 
of  them  that  come  to  us,  there  have  been  a  sufficient 
number  of  people  that  have  found  an  interest  in  pro- 
viding inns  and  proper  accommodations,  which  is  in 
general  a  more  expedient  method  for  the  entertainment 
of  travellers.  Where  the  travellers  and  strangers  are 
few,  more  of  that  hospitality  subsists,  as  it  has  not  been 
worth  while  to  provide  places  of  accommodation.  In 
Ireland  there  is  still  hospitality  to  strangers,  in  some 
degree  ;  in  Hungary  and  Poland  probably  more. 

"  Colman,  in  a  note  on  his  translation  of  Terence, 
talking  of  Shakspeare's  learning,  asks,  '  What  ^^ays 
Farmer  to  this  ?  What  says  Johnson  V  Upon  this  he 
observed,    *  Sir,  let  Farmer   answer   for   himself  :  / 


DR.   JOHNSON.  155 

never  engaged  in  this  controversy.  I  always  said,  ^780. 
Shakspeare  had  Latin  enough  to  grammaticise  his^^^ 
EngHsh."  71. 

"  A  clergyman,  whom  he  characterised  as  one  who 
loved  to  say  httle  oddities,  was  affecting  one  day,  at  a 
Bishop's  table,  a  sort  of  slyness  and  freedom  not  in 
character,  and  repeated,  as  if  part  of  '  The  Old  Man's 
Wish,'  a  song  by  Dr.  Waiter  Pope,  a  verse  bordering 
on  licentiousness.  Johnson  rebuked  him  in  the  finest 
manner,  by  first  shewing  him  that  he  did  not  know 
the  passage  he  was  aiming  at,  and  thus  humbling  him: 

*  Sir,  that  is  not  the  song  :  it  is  thus.'  And  he  gave 
it  right.  Then  looking  steadfastly  on  him,  '  Sir,  there 
is  a  part  of  that  song  which  I  should  wish  to  exem- 
plify in  my  own  life  : 

'  May  I  govern  my  passions  with  absolute  sway  !' 

"  Being  asked  if  Barnes  knew  a  good  deal  of  Greek, 
he  answered,    '  1  doubt.  Sir,  he  was   imocidus  inter 

CCGCOS."  * 

"  He  used  frequently  to  observe,  that  men  might  be 
very  eminent  in  a  profession,  without  our  perceiving 
any  particular  power  of  mind  in  them  in  conversation. 

*  It  seems  strange  (said  he)  that  a  man  should  see  so 
far  to  the  right,  who  sees  so  short  a  way  to  the  left. 
Burke  is  the  only  man  whose  common  conversation 
corresponds  with  the  general  fame  which  he  has  in  the 
world.  Take  up  whatever  topick  you  please,  he  is 
ready  to  meet  you." 

*'  A  gentleman,  by  no  means  deficient  in  literature, 
having  discovered  less  acquaintance  with  one  of  the 
Classicks  than  Johnson  expected,  when  the  gentleman 
left  the  room,  he  observed,  '  You  see,  now,  how  little 
any  body  reads.'  Mr.  Langton  happening  to  mention 
his  having  read  a  good  deal  in  Clenardus's  Greek 
Grammar,  '  Why,  Sir,   (said  he,)  who  is  there  in  this 

3  [Johnson  in  his  Life  of  Milton,  after  mentioning  that  great  poet's  extraordinary 
fancy  that  the  world  was  in  its  decay,  and  that  his  book  was  to  be  written  in  an 
age  too  late  for  heroick  poesy,  thus  concludes  :  "  However  inferiour  to  the  heroes 
who  were  born  in  better  ages,  he  might  still  be  great  among  his  contemporaries,  . 
with  the  hope  of  growing  every  day  greater  in  the  dwindle  of  posterity ;  he  might 
still  be  a  giant  among  the  pigmies,  the  onceyed  monarch  of  the  blind."    3.  B.— O.] 


156  THE    LIFE    OF 

1780.  town  who  knows  any  thing  of  Clenardus  but  you  and 
~  i  V  And  upon  Mr.  Langton's  mentioning  that  he  had 
taken  the  pains  to  learn  by  heart  the  Epistle  of  *^t. 
Basil,  which  is  given  in  that  Grammar  as  a  praxis, 
'  Sir,  (said  he,)  1  never  made  such  an  effort  to  attain 
Greek." 

"  Of  Dodsley's  '  Publick  Virtue,  a  Poem,'  he  said, 
'It  was  fine  blank ;  (meaning  to  express  his  usual  con- 
tempt for  blank  verse  :)  however,  this  miserable  poem 
did  not  sell,  and  my  poor  friend  Doddy  said,  Publick 
Virtue  was  not  a  subject  to  interest  the  age." 

"  Mr.  Langton,  when  a  very  young  man,  read  Dods- 
ley's '  Cleone,  a  Tragedy,'  to  him,  not  aware  of  his  ex- 
treme impatience  to  be  read  to.  As  it  went  on  he  turn- 
ed his  face  to  the  back  of  his  chair,  and  put  himself  into 
various  attitudes,  which  marked  his  uneasiness.  At 
the  end  of  an  act,  however,  he  said,  *  Come,  let's  have 
some  more,  let's  go  into  the  slaughter-house  again, 
Lanky.  But  I  am  afraid  there  is  more  blood  than 
brains.'  Yet  he  afterwards  said,  '  When  I  heard  you 
read  it  I  thought  higher  of  its  power  of  language  :  when 
I  read  it  myself,  1  was  more  sensible  of  its  pathetick  ef- 
fect ;'  and  then  he  paid  it  a  compliment  which  many 
will  think  very  extravagant.  *  Sir,  (said  he,)  if  Otway 
had  written  this  play,  no  other  of  his  pieces  would  have 
been  remembered.'  Dodsley  himself,  upon  this  being 
repeated  to  him,  said,  '  It  was  too  much  :'  it  must  be 
remembered,  that  Johnson  always  appeared  not  to  be 
sufficiently  sensible  of  the  merit  of  Otway."* 

"  Snatches  of  reading  (said  he)  will  not  make  a  Bent- 
ley  or  a  Clarke.  They  are,  however,  in  a  certain  de- 
gree advantageous.  I  would  put  a  child  into  a  library 
(where  no  unfit  books  are)  and  let  him  read  at  his  choice. 
A  child  should  not  be  discouraged  from  reading  any 
thing  that  he  takes  a  liking  to,  from  a  notion  that  it  is 
above  his  reach.  If  that  be  the  case,  the  child  will 
soon  find  it  out  and  desist  ;  if  not,  he  of  course  gains 
the  instruction ;  which  is  so  much  the  more  likely  to 

*  [This  assertion  concerning  Johnson's  insensibility  to  the  pathetick  powers  of 
Otway,  is  too  round.  I  once  asked  him,  whether  he  did  not  think  Otway  frequently 
tender  :  when  he  answered, "  Sir,  he  is  all  tenderness."    B.1 


I 

I 


I 


DR.   JOHNSON.  157 

come,  from  the  inclination  with  which  he  takes  up  the  1780, 
study."  ^ 

"  Though  he  used  to  censure  carelessness  with  great   71. 
vehemence,  he  owned,  that  he  once,  to  avoid  the  trou- 
ble of  locking  up  five  guineas,  hid  them,  he  forgot  where, 
so  that  he  could  not  find  them." 

"  A  gentleman  who  introduced  his  brother  to  Dr. 
Johnson,  was  earnest  to  recommend  him  to  the  Doc- 
tor's notice,  which  he  did  by  saying,  *  When  we  have 
sat  together  some  time,  you'll  find  my  brother  grow  ve- 
ry entertaining/ — '  Sir,  (said  Johnson,)  I  can  wait." 

"  When  the  rumour  was  strong  that  we  should  have 
a  war,  because  the  French  would  assist  the  Americans, 
he  rebuked  a  friend  with  some  asperity  for  supposing  it, 
saying,  '  No,  Sir,  national  faith  is  not  yet  sunk  so  low." 

"  In  the  latter  part  of  his  life,  in  order  to  satisfy  him- 
self whether  his  mental  faculties  were  impaired,  he  re- 
solved that  he  would  try  to  learn  a  new  language,  and 
fixed  upon  the  Low  Dutch,  for  that  purpose,  and  this 
he  continued  till  he  had  read  about  one  half  of '  Thom- 
as a  Kempis  ;'  and  finding  that  there  appeared  no  abate- 
ment of  his  power  of  acquisition,  he  then  desisted,  as 
thinking  the  experiment  had  been  duly  tried.  Mr. 
Burke  justly  observed,  that  this  was  not  the  most  vig- 
orous trial,  Low  Dutch  being  a  language  so  near  to  our 
own  ;  had  it  been  one  of  the  languages  entirely  differ- 
ent, he  might  have  been  very  soon  satisfied." 

"  Mr.  Langton  and  he  having  gone  to  see  a  Free- 
mason's funeral  procession,  when  they  were  at  Ro- 
chester, and  some  solemn  musick  being  played  on 
French  horns,  he  said,  '  This  is  the  first  time  that  I 
have  ever  been  affected  by  musical  sounds ;  adding 
*  that  the  impression  made  upon  him  was  of  a  mel- 
ancholy kind.'  Mr.  Langton  saying,  that  this  effect 
was  a  fine  one. — Johnson.  '  Yes,  if  it  softens  the 
mind  so  as  to  prepare  it  for  the  reception  of  salutary 
feelings,  it  may  be  good  :  but  in  as  much  as  it  is  me- 
lancholy per  se^  it  is  bad."* 


^  [The  French  horn,  however,  is  so  far  from  being  melancholy  ptr  si,  that  when 
the  strain  is  light,  and  in  the  field,  there  is  nothing  so  cheerful !    It  was  the  fune- 


158  THE    LIFE    OF 

1780.  "  Goldsmith  had  long  a  visionary  project,  that  some 
"^^  time  or  other  when  his  circumstances  should  be  easier, 
71,  '  he  would  go  to  Aleppo,  in  order  to  acquire  a  knowl- 
edge as  far  as  might  be,  of  any  arts  peculiar  to  the 
East,  and  introduce  them  into  Britain.  When  this 
was  talked  of  in  Dr.  Johnson's  company,  he  said,  '  Of 
all  men  Goldsmith  is  the  most  unfit  to  go  out  upon 
such  an  enquiry  ;  for  he  is  utterly  ignorant  of  such 
arts  as  we  already  possess,  and  consequently  could  not 
know  what  would  be  accessions  to  our  present  stock  of 
mechanical  knowledge.  Sir,  he  would  bring  home  a 
grinding-barrow,  which  you  see  in  every  street  in  Lon- 
don, and  think  that  he  had  furnished  a  wonderful  im- 
provement." 

"  Greek,  Sir,  (said  he)  is  like  lace ;  every  man  gets 
as  much  of  it  as  he  can.""* 

"  When  Lord  Charles  Hay,  after  his  return  from 
America,  was  preparing  his  defence  to  be  offered  to^ 
the  Court-martial  which  he  had  demanded,  having  heard 
Mr.  Langton  as  high  in  expressions  of  admiration  of 
Johnson,  as  he  usually  was,  he  requested  that  Dr.  John- 
son might  be  introduced  to  him  ;  and  Mr.  Langton 
having  mentioned  it  to  Johnson,  he  very  kindly  and 
readily  agreed  ;  and  being  presented  by  Mr.  Langton  to 
his  Lordship,  while  under  arrest,  he  saw  him  several 
times  ;  upon  one  of  which  occasions  Lord  Charles  read 
to  him  what  he  had  prepared,  which  Johnson  signified 
his  approbation  of,  saying,  *  It  is  a  very  good  soldierly 
defence.*  Johnson  said,  that  he  had  advised  his  Lord- 
ship, that  as  it  was  in  vain  to  contend  with  those  who 
were  in  possession  of  power,  if  they  would  offer  him 
the  rank  of  Lieutenant-General,  and  a  government,  it 
would  be  better  judged  to  desist  from  urging  his  com- 
plaints. It  is  well  known  that  his  Lordship  died  before 
the  sentence  was  made  known." 

"  Johnson  one  day  gave  high  praise  to  Dr.  Bentley's 

ral  occasion,  and  probably  the  solemnity  of  the  strain,  that  produced  the  plaintive 
effect  here  mentioned."     B.] 

'  [It  should  be  remembered,  that  this  was  said  twenty-five  or  thirty  years  ago, 
Vfheti  lace  was  Very  generally  worn.    M.l 


DR.   JOHNSON.  159 

verses'  in  Dodsley's  Collection,  which  he  recited  with  1780. 
his  usual  energy.     Dr.  Adam  Smith,  who  was  present,  ^^ 
observed  in  his  decisive  professorial  manner,  '  Very  well   71,  * 
— V'ery  well.'    Johnson  however  added,  '  Yes,  they 
are  very  well,  Sir ;  but  you  may  observe  in  what  man- 
ner they  are  well.     They  are  the  forcible  verses  of  a 
man  of  a  strong  mind,  but  not  accustomed  to  write  verse; 
for  there  is  some  uncouthness  in  the  expression."^ 

■  Dr.  Johnson,  in  his  Life  of  Cowley,  says,  that  these  are  "  the  only  English 
verses  which  Bentley  is  known  to  have  written."  1  shall  here  insert  them,  and 
hope  my  readers  will  apply  them. 

"  Who  strives  to  mount  Parnassus'  hill 

"  And  thence  poetick  laurels  bring, 
*'  Must  first  acquire  due  force  and  skill, 

"  Must  fly  with  swan's  or  eagle's  wing. 

"  Who  Nature's  treasures  would  explore, 

"  Her  mysteries  and  arcana  know  ; 
"  Must  high  as  lofty  Newton  soar, 

"  Must  stoop  as  delving  Woodward  low. 

"  Who  studies  ancient  laws  and  rites, 

"  Tongues,  arts,  and  arms,  and  history ; 
"  Must  drudge,  like  Selden,  days  and  nights, 

"  And  in  the  endless  labour  die. 

"  Who  travels  in  reUgious  jars, 

"  (Truth  mixt  with  errour,  shades  with  raysr"^ 
"  Like  Whiston,  wanting  pyx  or  stars, 

"  In  ocean  wide  or  sinks  or  strays. 

•'  But  grant  our  hero's  hope,  long  toil 

"  And  comprehensive  genius  crown, 
"  All  sciences,  all  arts  his  spoil, 

"  Yet  what  reward,  or  what  renown  r 

"  Envy,  innate  in  vulgar  souls, 

"  Envy  steps  in  and  stops  his  rise  ; 
"  Envy  with  poison'd  tarnish  fouls 

"  His  lustre,  and  his  worth  decries. 

"  He  lives  inglorious  or  in  want, 

"  To  college  and  old  books  confin'd  ; 
"  Instead  of  learn 'd,  he's  call'd  pedant, 

"  Dunces  advanc'd,  he's  left  behind  : 
"  Yet  left  content,  a  genuine  Stoick  he, 
"  Great  without  patron,  rich  without  South  Sea." 

{A  different  and  probably  a  more  accurate  copy  of  these  spirited  verses  is  to  be 
found  in  "  The  Grove,  or  a  Collection  of  Originai  Poems  and  Translations,"  &c. 
1721.  In  this  miscellany  the  last  stanza,  which  in  Dodsley's  copy  is  unquestiona- 
bly uncouth,  is  thus  exhibited  : 

"  Inglorious  or  by  "wants  inthrall'd, 

"  To  college  and  old  books  confin'd, 
"  A  pedant  from  bis  learning  call'd, 

"  Dunces  advanc'd,  he's  left  behind." 

J.  R— 0.3 
The  difference  between  Johnson  and  Smith  is  apparent  even  in  this  slight  in- 
stance.   Smith  was  a  man  of  extraordinary  application,  and  had  his  mind  crowded 


160  THE    LIFE    OF 

1780.  "  Drinking  tea  one  day  at  Garrick's  with  Mr.  Lang- 
^tat^  ^^"'  ^^  ^^*  questioned  if  he  was  not  somewhat  of  a 
71.  heretick  as  to  Shakspeare  ;  said  Garrick,  '  1  doubt  he  is 
a  little  of  an  infidel.' — 'Sir,  (said  Johnson)  1  will  stand 
by  the  lines  1  have  written  on  Shakspeare  in  my  Pro- 
logue at  the  opening  of  your  Theatre.^  Mr.  Langton 
suggested,  that  in  the  line 

*  And  panting  Time  toil'd  after  him  in  vain  ;' 

Johnson  might  have  had  in  his  eye  the  passage  in  the 
*  Tempest,'  where  Prospero  says  of  Miranda, 

She  will  outstrip  all  praise. 


i 


*  And  make  it  halt  behind  her.' 

Johnson  said  nothing:.  Garrick  then  ventured  to  ob- 
serve, '  I  do  not  think  that  the  happiest  line  in  the 
praise  of  Shakspeare.'  Johnson  exclaimed  (smiling,) 
*  Prosaical  rogues  !  next  time  1  write,  I'll  make  both 
time  and  space  pant."' 

"  It  is  well  known  that  there  was  formerly  a  rude 
custom  for  those  who  were  sailing  upon  the  Thames,  to 
accost  each  other  as  they  passed,  in  the  most  abusive 
language  they  could  invent,  generally,  however  with 
as  much  satirical  humour  as  they  were  capable  of  pro- 

witlj  all  manner  of  subjects  ;  but  the  force,  acuteness,  and  vivacity  of  Johnson 
were  not  to  be  found  there.  He  had  book-making'  so  much  in  his  thoughtSj  and 
was  so  chary  of  what  might  be  turned  to  account  in  that  way,  that  he  once  said  to 
Sir  Joshua  Reynolds,  that  he  made  it  a  rule  when  in  company,  never  to  talk  of  what 
he  understood.  Beauclerk  had  for  a  short  time  a  pretty  high  opinion  of  Smith's 
«onversation.  Garrick  after  Ustening  to  himifor  a  wliiie,  as  to  one  of  whom  his 
expectations  had  been  raised,  turned  slyly  to  a  friend,  and  whispered  him, "  What 
say  you  to  this  .' — eh  ?  Jlabby,  I  think." 

'  I  am  sorry  to  see  in  the  "  Transactions  of  the  Royal  Society  of  Edinburgh," 
Vol.  11.  "  An  Essay  on  the  Character  of  Hamlet,"  written,  I  should  suppose,  by  a 
very  young  man,  though  called  "  Reverend  ;"  who  speaks  with  presumptuous  pet- 
ulance of  the  first  literary  character  of  his  age.  Amidst  a  cloudy  confusion  of 
words,  (which  hath  of  late  too  often  passed  in  Scotland  for  Mdaphy sicks ^  he  thus 
ventures  to  criticise  one  o  the  noblest  lines  in  our  langupge  : — "  Dr.  Johnson  has 
remarked,  that  '  time  toiled  after  him  in  vain.'  But  I  should  apprehend,  that  this 
IS  entirely  to  mistake  the  character.  Time  toils  after  every  great  man,  as  well  as  after 
Shakspeare.  The  -workings  of  an  ordinary  mind  keep  face,  indeed,  with  time  ;  they 
move  no  faster  ;  they  have  their  beginning,  their  middle,  and  their  end  ;  but  superiour 
natures  can  reduce  these  into  a  point.  They  do  not,  indeed;  suppress  them  ;  but  they 
suspend,  or  they  lock  them  up  in  the  breast."  The  learned  Society,  under  whose  sanc- 
tion such  gabble  is  ushered  into  the  world,  would  do  well  to  offer  a  premium  ta 
any  one  who  will  discover  its  meaning. 


DR.   JOHNSON.  16t 

ducing.     Addison  gives  a  specimen  of  this  ribaldry,  m  1780. 
Number  383  of  '  The  Spectator,'  when  Sir  Roger  de  ^J^ 
Coverly  and  he  are  going  to  Spring-garden.     Johnson   71,  * 
was  once  eminently  successful  in  this  species  of  con- 
test ;  a  fellow  having  attacked  him  with  some  coarse 
raillery,  Johnson  answered  him  thus,  '  Sir,  your  wife 
under  pretence  of  keeping  a  baicdij-house^  is  a  receiver 
of  stolen  goods.'       One  evening   when   he  and   Mr. 
Burke  and   Mr,  Langton  were  in   company  together, 
and  the  admirable  scolding  of  Timon  of  Athens  was 
mentioned,  this  instance  of  Johnson's  was  quoted,  and 
thought  to  have  at  least  equal  excellence." 

"  As  Johnson  always  allowed  the  extraordinary 
talents  of  Mr.  Burke,  so  Mr.  Burke  was  fully  sensible 
of  the  wonderful  powers  of  Johnson.  Mr.  Langton 
recollects  having  passed  an  evening  with  both  of  them, 
•when  Mr.  Burke  repeatedly  entered  upon  topicks 
which  it  was  evident  he  would  have  illustrated  with 
extensive  knowledge  and  richness  of  expression  ;  but 
Johnson  always  seized  upon  the  conversation,  in  which, 
however,  he  acquitted  himself  in  a  most  masterly  man- 
ner. As  Mr.  Burke  and  Mr.  Langton  were  walking 
home,  Mr.  Burke  observed  that  Johnson  had  been 
very  great  that  night ;  Mr.  Langton  joined  in  this,  but 
added,  he  could  have  wished  to  hear  more  from  an- 
other person  ;  (plainly  intimating  that  he  meant  Mr. 
Burke.)  '  O,  no,  (said  Mr.  Burke)  it  is  enough  for  me 
to  have  rung  the  bell  to  him." 

"  Beauclerk  having  observed  to  him  of  one  of  their 
friends,  that  he  was  awkward  at  counting  money, 
'  Why,  Sir,  said  Johnson,  I  am  likewise  awkward  at 
counting  money.  But  then.  Sir,  the  reason  is  plain  ; 
I  have  had  very  little  money  to  count." 

"  He  had  an  abhorrence  of  affectatiori.  Talking  of 
old  Mr.  Langton,  of  whom  he  said,  *  Sir,  you  will  sel- 
dom see  such  a  gentleman,  such  are  his  stores  of 
literature,  such  his  knowledge  in  divinity,  and  such 
his  exemplary  life  ;'  he  added,  '  and  Sir,  he  has  no 
grimace,  no  gesticulation,  no  bursts  of  admiration  on 
trivial  occasions  ;  he  never  embraces  you  with  an  over- 
acted cordiality/' 

TOT..  TTT^  91 


l62  '  THE    LIFE    0¥ 

1780.       "  Being  in  company  with  a  gentleman  who  thought 

^J^  fit   to   maintain    L)r,    Berkeley's  ingenious  philosophy, 

71.    that  nothing  exists   but  as  perceived  by  some  mind  ; 

when   the  gentleman  was  going  away,  Johnson  said  to 

him,  '  Pray,   Sir,  don't  leave  us  ;  for  we  may  perhaps 

forget  to  think  of  you,  and  then  you  will  cease  to  exist." 

"  Goldsmith  upon  being  visited  by  Johnson  one 
day  in  the  Temple,  said  to  him  with  a  little  jealousy 
of  the  appearance  of  his  accommodation,  '  I  shall  soon 
be  in  better  chambers  than  these.'  Johnson  at  the 
same  time  checked  him  and  paid  him  a  handsome 
compliment,  implying  that  a  man  of  his  talents  should 
be  above  attention  to  such  distinctions,—'  Nay,  Sir, 
never  mind  that.     Ni/  te  quossiveris  extra" 

"  At  the  time  when  his  pension  was  granted  to  him, 
he  said,  with  a  noble  literary  ambition,  '  Had  this 
happened  twenty  years  ago,  I  should  have  gone  to 
Constantinople  to  learn  Arabick,  as  Pococke  did." 

"  As  an  instance  of  the  niceness  of  his  taste,  though 
he  praised  West's  translation  of  Pindar,  he  pointed  out 
the  following  passages  as  faulty,  by  expressing  a  cir- 
cumstance so  minute  as  to  detract  from  the  general 
dignity  which  should  prevail  : 

Down  then  from  thy  glittering  nail, 
Take,  O  muse  thy  Dorian  lyre." 

"  When  Mr.  Vesey»  was  proposed  as  a  member  of 
the  Literary  C'lub,  Mr.  Burke  began  by  saying 
that  he  was  a  man  of  gentle  "manners.  '  Sir,  said 
Johnson,  you  need  say  no  more.  When  you  have 
said  a  man  of  gentle  manners  ;  you  have  said  enough." 

"  The  late  Mr.  Fitzherbert  told  Mr.  Langton,  that 
Johnson  said  to  him,  '  Sir,  a  man  has  no  more  right  to 
say  an  uncivil  thing,  than  to  act  one  ;  no  more  right 
to  say  a  rude  thing  to  another  than  to  knock  him 
down." 

"  My  dear  friend  Dr.  Bathurst,  (said  he  with  a 
warmth  of  approbation)  declared,  he  was  glad  that  his 

'  [The  Right  Honourable  Agmondesham  Vesey  was  elected  a  member  of  the 
Literary  Club  in  1773,  and  died  in  1784.     M.] 


DR.    JOHNSON.  163 

father,  Avho  was  a  West-Indian  planter,  had  left  his  '780. 
affairs  in  total  ruin,  because  having  no  estate,  he  was  ^^^ 
not  under  the  temptation  of  having  slaves."  7i\  * 

"  Richardson  had  little  conversation,  except  about 
his  own  works,  of  which  Sir  Joshua  Reynolds  said  he 
was  always  willing  to  talk,  and  glad  to  have  thetn  in- 
troduced. Johnson  when  he  carried  Mr.  Langton  to 
see  him,  professed  that  he  could  bring  him  out  into 
conversation,  and  used  this  allusive  expression,  '  Sir,  1 
can  make  him  rear.^  But  he  failed  ;  for  in  that  inter- 
view Richardson  said  little  else  than  that  there  lay  in 
the  room  a  translation  of  his  Clarissa  into  German."'' 

*'  Once  when  somebody  produced  a  newspaper  in 
which  there  was  a  letter  of  stupid  abuse  of  Sir  Joshua 
Reynolds,  of  which  Johnson  himself  came  in  for  a 
share, — '  Pray,  said  he,  let  us  have  it  read  aloud  from 
beginning  to  end  ;'  which  being  done,  he  with  a  lu- 
dicrous earnestness,  and  not  directing  his  look  to  any 
particular  person,  called  out,  '  Are  we  alive  after  all 
this  satire  !" 

^'  He  had  a  strong  prejudice  against  the  political 
character  of  Seeker,  one  instance  of  which  appeared 
at  Oxford,  where  he  expressed  great  dissatisfaction  at 
his  varying  the  old  established  toast,  '  Church  and 
King.'  '  The  Archbishop  of  Canterbur3%  said  he 
(with  an  affected  smooth  smiling  grimace)  drinks, 
'  Constitution  in  Church  and  State.'  Being  asked 
what  difference  there  was  between  the  two  toasts,  he 
said,  '  Why,  Sir,  you  may  be  sure  he  meant  something.' 

2  A  literar^"^  lady  has  favoured  me  with  a  characteristick  anecdote  of  Richard- 
son. One  day  at  his  country-house  at  Northend,  where  a  large  company  was  as- 
eembled  at  dinner,  a  gentleman  who  was  just  returned  from  Paris,  willing  to  please 
Mr.  Richardson,  mentioned  to  him  a  very  flattering  circumstance, — that  he  had 
seen  his  Clarissa  lying  on  the  King's  brother's  table.  Richardson  observing  that 
part  of  the  company  were  engaged  in  talking  to  each  other,  affected  then  not  to 
attend  to  it.  But  by  and  by,  when  there  was  a  general  silence,  and  he  thought 
that  the  flattery  might  be  fully  heard,  he  addressed  himself  to  the  gentleman, '  I 
think.  Sir,  you  were  saying  something  about,' — pausing  in  a  high  flutter  of  expect- 
ation. The  gentleman  provoked  at  his  inordinate  vanity,  resolved  not  to  indulge 
it,  and  with  an  exquisitely  sly  air  of  indifference  answered, '  A  mere  trifle,  Sir,  not 
worth  repeating.'  The  mortification  of  Richardson  was  visible,  and  he  did  not 
speak  ten  words  more  the  whole  day.  Dr.  Johnson  was  present,  and  appeared  to 
enioy  it  much. 


164-  THE    LIFE    OP 

1780.  Yet  when  the  life  of  that  prelate,  prefixed  to  his  ser- 

JJJ^  mens   by   Dr.   Porteus  and   Dr.  Stinton  his  chaplains, 

7j.    first  came  out,   he  read  it  with  the  utmost  avidity,  and 

said,  '  It  is  a   life  well  written,  and  that  well  deserves 

to  be  recorded." 

"  Of  a  certain  noble  Lord,  he  said,  '  Respect  him, 
you  could  not  ;  for  he  had  no  mind  of  his  own.  Love 
him  you  could  not  ;  for  that  which  you  could  do  with 
him,  every  one  else  could." 

"  Of  Dr.  Goldsmith  he  said,  '  No  man  was  more 
foolish  when  he  had  not  a  pen  in  his  hand,  or  more 
wise  when  he  had." 

"  He  told  in  his  lively  manner  the  following  literary 
anecdote  :  '  Green  and  Guthrie,  an  Irishman  and  a 
Scotchman,  undertook  a  translation  of  Duhalde's  his- 
tory of  China.  Green  said  of  Guthrie,  that  he  knew 
no  English,  and  Guthrie  of  Green,  that  he  knew  no 
French  ;  and  these  two  undertook  to  translate  Du- 
halde's  history  of  China.  In  this  translation  there  was 
found  "  the  twenty-sixth  day  of  the  new  moon."  Now 
as  the  whole  age  of  the  moon  is  but  twenty-eight  days, 
the  moon  instead  of  being  new,  was  nearly  as  old  as  it 
could  be.  The  blunder  arose  from  their  mistaking  the 
word  neiivihne  ninth,  nouvelle  or  neuve^  nevt'." 

"  Talking  of  Dr.  Blagden's  copiousness  and  precision 
of  communication.  Dr.  Johnson  said,  '  Blagden,  Sir,  is 
a  delightful  fellow." 

"  On  oc(!asion  of  Dr.  Johnson's  publishing  his  pam- 
phlet of  '  The  False  Alarm,'  tliere  came  out  a  very 
angry  answer  (by  many  supposed  to  be  by  Mr.  Wilkes.) 
Dr.  Johnson  determined  on  not  answering  it  ;  but,  in 
conversation  with  Mr.  Langton  mentioned  a  particular 
or  two,  which  if  he  hud  replied  to  it,  he  might  perhaps 
have  inserted. — In  the  answerer's  pamphlet,  it  had  been 
said  with  solemnity,  '  Do  you  consider,  Sir,  that  a 
House  of  .Commons  is  to  the  people  as  a  creature  is  to 
its  Creator.'  To  this  question,  said  Dr.  Johnson,  I 
could  have  replied,  that — in  the  first  place — the  idea 
of  a  Creator  must  be  such  as  that  he  has  a  power  to 
unmake  or  annihilate  his  creature. 


DR.   JOHNSON.  .  165 

"  Then  it  cannot  be  conceived  that  a  creature  can  '780. 
make  laws  for  its  Creator.^  MisA. 

"  Depend  upon  it,  said  he,  that  if  a  man  fa/ks  of  his    71. 
misfortunes,  there  is  something  in  them  that  is  not  dis- 
agreeable to  him  ;  for  where  there  is  nothing  but  pure 
misery,  there  never  is  any  recourse  to  the  mention  of 
it. — 

*'  A  man  must  be  a  poor  beast,  that  should  read  no 
more  in  quantity  than  he  could  utfer  aloud. — 

"  Imlac  in  "  Rasselas,"  1  spelt  with  a  c  at  the  end, 
because  it  is  less  like  English,  which  should  always 
have  the  Saxon  k  added  to  the  c* 

"  Many  a  man  is  mad  in  certain  instances,  and  goes 
through  life  without  having  it  perceived  ; — for  example, 
a  madness  has  seized  a  person  of  supposing  himself 
obliged  literally  to  pray  continually  ;  had  the  madness 
turned  the  opposite  way,  and  the  person  thought  it  a 
crime  ever  to  pray,  it  might  not  improbably  have  con- 
tinued unobserved. 

*'  He  apprehended  that  the  delineation  of  characters 
in  the  end  of  the  first  Book  of  the  '  Retreat  of  the  ten 
thousand'  was  the  first  instance  of  the  kind  that  was 
known. 

"  Supposing  (said  he)  a  wife  to  be  of  a  studious  or  ar- 
gumentative turn,  it  would  be  very  troublesome  :  for 
instance, — if  a  woman  should  continually  dwell  upon 
the  subject  of  the  Arian  heresy. 

"  No  man  speaks  concerning  another,  even  suppose 
it  be  in  his  praise,  if  he  thinks  he  does  not  hear  him,  ex- 
actly as  he  would,  if  he  thought  he  was  within  hearing. 

"  The  applause  of  a  single  human  being  is  of  great 
consequence  :"  This  he  said  to  me  with  great  earnest- 
ness of  manner,  very  near  the  time  of  his  decease,  on 
occasion  of  having  desired  me  to  read  a  letter  addressed 

^  His  profound  adoration  of  the  Great  First  Cause  was  such  as  to  sethim  above 
that  "  Philosophy  and  vain  deceit,"  with  which  men  of  narrow  conceptions  have 
been  infected.  I  have  heard  him  strongly  maintain  that  "  what  is  right  is  not  so 
from  any  natural  fitness,  but  because  God  wills  it  to  be  right ;"  and  it  is  certainly 
so,  because  he  has  predisposed  the  relations  of  things  so  as  that  which  he  wills  must 
be  right.  Boswell. 

•  I  hope  the  authority  of  the  great  Master  of  our  language  will  stop  that  cur- 
tailing innovation,  by  which  we  see  critic,  public,  &c.  frequently  written  instead  Qf 
critickyfuLlici,  &C. 


166  THE    LIFE    OF 

1780.  to  him  from  some  person  in  the  North  of  England  ; 

iEtat^  which  when  1  had  done,  and  he  asked  me  what  the 

71.    contents  were,  as  1   thought  being  particular   upon  it 

might  fatigue  him,  it  being  of  great  length,  1  only  told 

him  in   general  that  it  was   highly  in   his  praise  ; — and 

then  he  expressed  himself  as  above. 

"  He  mentioned  with  an  air  of  satisfaction  what  Ba- 
retti  had  told  him  ;  that,  meeting,  in  the  course  of  his 
studying  i^'inglish,  with  an  excellent  paper  in  the  Spec- 
tator, one  of  four  that  were  written  by  the  respectable 
Dissenting  Minister  Mr.  Grove  of  Taunton,  and  observ- 
ing the  genius  and  energy  of  mind  that  it  exhibits,  it 
greatly  quickened  his  curiosity  to  visit  our  country  ; 
as  he  thought,  if  such  were  the  lighter  periodical  essays 
of  our  authours,  their  productions  on  more  weighty  oc- 
casions must  be  wonderful  indeed  ! 

"  He  observed  once,  at  Sir  Joshua  Reynolds's,  that  a 
beggar  in  the  street  will  more  readily  ask  alms  from  a 
man^  though  there  should  be  no  marks  of  wealth  in  his 
appearance,  than  from  even  a  well-dressed  zooman  ;« 
which  he  accounted  for  from  the  great  degree  of  care- 
fulness as  to  money,  that  is  to  be  found  in  women  ; 
saying  farther  upon  it,  that,  the  opportunities  in  gener- 
al that  they  possess  of  improving  their  condition  are 
much  fewer  than  men  have  ;  and  adding,  as  he  looked 
round  the  company,  which  consisted  of  men  only, — 
there  is  not  one  of  us  who  does  not  think  he  might  be 
richer,  if  he  would  use  his  endeavour. 

"  He  thus  characterised  an  ingenious  writer  of  his 
acquaintance;  '  Sir,  he  is  an  enthusiast  by  rule.' 

"  He  maij  holdup  that  shield  against  all  his  ene- 
mies ;" — was  an  observation  on  Homer,  in  reference 
to  his  description  of  the  shield  of  Achilles,  made  by 
Mrs.  Fitzherbert,  wife  to  his  friend  Mr.  Fitzherbert  of 
Derbyshire,  and  respected  by  Dr.  Johnson  as  a  very 
fine  one.  He  had  in  general  a  very  high  opinion  of 
that  lady's  understandmg. 

"An  observation  of  Bathurst's  may  be  mentioned, 
which  Johnson  repeated,  appearing  to  acknowledge  it 

■■  Sterne  is  of  a  direct  contrary  opinion.  See  his  "  Sentimental  lourney,"  Arti- 
cle, "  Tf'e  Mystery ''  BoswEtt. 


DR.   JOHNSON.  167 

to  be  well  founded  ;  namely,  it  was' sonne what  remark-  i78i. 
able  how  seldom,  on  occasion  of  coming  into  the  com-  ]£j[^^ 
pany  of  any  new  person,  one  felt  any  wish  or  inclination   72. 
to  see  him  again." 


This  year  the  Reverend  Dr.  Franklin  having  pub- 
lished a  translation  of  "  Lucian,"  inscribed  to  him  the 
Demonax  thus  : 

"  To  Dr.  Samuel  Johnson,  the  Demonax  of  the 
present  age,  this  piece  is  inscribed  by  a  sincere  admir- 
er of  his  respectable  talents, 

The  Translator.'^ 

Though  upon  a  particular  comparison  of  Demonax 
and  Johnson,  there  does  not  seem  to  be  a  great  deal 
of  similarity  between  them,  this  Dedication  is  a  just 
compliment  from  the  general  chararter  given  by  Lurian 

of    the    ancient    Sage,     "    cn^inov  uv  cila.  eyw  (piKo(TO(puy  yiyofjLiYoy, 

the  best  philosopher  whom  i  have  ever  seen  or  known." 
In  1781,  Johnson  at  last  completed  his  "  Lives  of 
the  Poets,"  of  which  he  gives  this  account  :  "  Some 
time  in  March  1  finished  the  *  Lives  of  the  Poets/ 
which  I  wrote  in  my  usual  way,  dilatorily  and  hastily, 
unwilling  to  work,  and  working  with  vigour  and  haste."® 
In  a  memorandum  previous  to  this,  he  says  of  them  : 
"  Written,  I  hope,  in  such  a  manner  as  may  tend  to 
the  promotion  of  piety."  ^ 

This  is  the  work,  which  of  all  Dr.  Johnson's  writ- 
ings will  perhaps  be  read  most  generally,  and  with 
most  pleasure.  Philology  and  biography  were  his 
favourite  pursuits,  and  those  who  lived  most  in  inti- 
macy with  him,  heard  him  upon  all  occasions,  when 
there  was  a  proper  opportunity,  take  delight  in  expa- 
tiating upon  the  various  merits  of  the  English  Poets  : 
upon  the  niceties  of  their  characters,  and  the  events 
of  their  progress  through  the  world  which  they  contrib- 
uted to  illuminate.  His  mind  was  so  full  of  that 
kind  of  information,  and  it  was  so  well  arranged  in 

'■  Prayers  and  Meditations,  p.  199  -  Ibid.  174. 


168  THE    LIFE    OF 

1781.  his  memory,  that  in  performing  what  he  had  under- 
^^  taken  in  this  way,  he  had  little  more  to  do  than  to  put 
72.  his  thoughts  upon  paper  ;  exhibiting  first  each  Poet's 
life,  and  then  subjoining  a  critical  examination  of  his 
genius  and  works.  But  when  he  began  to  write,  the 
subject  swelled  in  such  a  manner,  that  instead  of  pre- 
faces to  each  poet,  of  no  more  than  a  few  pages,  as  he 
had  originally  intended, «  he  produced  an  ample,  rich, 
and  most  entertaining  view  of  them  in  every  respect. 
In  this  he  resembled  Quintilian,  who  tells  us,  that  in 
the  composition  of  his  Institutions  of  Oratory,  "  Latiils 
se  tamen  aperient e  materia,  plus  qncim  imponebatur 
oneris  sponie  suscepi"  The  booksellers,  justly  sensi- 
ble of  the  great  additional  value  of  the  copy-right, 
presented  him  with  another  hundred  pounds,  over  and 
above  two  hundred,  for  which  his  agreement  was  to 
furnish  such  prefaces  as  he  thought  fit. 

This  was,  however,  but  a  small  recompence  for  such 
a  collection  of  biography,  and  such  principles  and  illus- 
trations of  criticism,  as,  if  digested  and  arranged  in 
one  system,  by  some  modern  Aristotle  or  Longinus, 
might  form  a  code  upon  that  subject,  such  as  no  other 
nation  can  shew.  As  he  was  so  good  as  to  make  me  a 
present  of  the  greatest  part  of  the  original  and  indeed 
only  manuscript  of  this  admirable  work,  I  have  an  op- 
portunity of  observing  with  wonder  the  correctness 
with  which  he  rapidly  struck  off  such  glowing  compo- 
sition. He  may  be  assimilated  to  the  Lady  in  Waller, 
who  could  impress  with  "  Love  at  first  sight  :" 

"  Some  other  nymphs  with  colours  faint, 
"  And  pencil  slow,  may  Cupid  paint, 
"  And  a  weak  heart  in  time  destroy  ; 
"  She  has  a  stamp,  and  prints  the  boy." 


8  His  design  is  tlius  announced  in  his  Ad-vertisement :  "  The  Booksellers  having 
determined  to  publish  a  body  of  English  Poetry,  I  was  persuaded  to  promise  them 
a  preface  to  the  works  of  each  authour ;  an  undertaking,  as  it  was  then  presented 
to  my  mind,  not  very  tedious  or  difficult. 

"  My  purpose  was  only  to  have  allotted  to  every  poet  an  Advertisement, like  that 
which  we  find  in  the  French  Miscellanies,  containing  a  lew  dates,  and  a  general 
character ;  but  I  have  been  led  beyond  my  intention,  I  hope  by  the  honest  desire 
of  giving  useful  pleasure." 


DR.   JOHNSON,  169 

That  he,  however,  had  a  good  deal  of  trouble,  and  ^78 1. 
some  anxiety  in  carrying  on  the  work,  we  see  from  J^^^ 
a  series  of  letters  to  Mr.  Nichols  the  printer,^  whose  72,  * 
variety  of  literary  enquiry  and  obliging  disposition, 
rendered  him  useful  to  Johnson.  Mr.  Steevens  appears, 
from  the  papers  in  my  possession,  to  have  supplied 
him  with  some  anecdotes  and  quotations  ;  and  I  ob- 
serve the  fair  hand  of  Mrs.  Thrale  as  one  of  his  copyists 
of  select  passages.  But  he  was  principally  indebted  to 
my  steady  friend  Mr.  Isaac  Reed,  of  Staple-inn,  whose 
extensive  and  accurate  knowledge  of  English  literary 
History  I  do  not  express  with  exaggeration,  when  I 
tay  it  is  wonderful  ;  indeed  his  labours  have  proved  it 
to  the  world  ;  and  all  who  have  the  pleasure  of  his 
acquaintance  can  bear  testimony  to  the  frankness  of 
his  communications  in  private  society. 

It  is  not  my  intention  to  dwell  upon  each  of  John- 
son's "  Lives  of  the  Poets,"  or  attempt  an  analysis  of 
their  merits,   which,  were  1  able  to  do  it,   would  take 

">  Thus  : — "  In  the  Life  of  Waller,  Mr.  Nichols  will  find  a  reference  to  the  Par- 
liamentary History,  from  which  a  long  quotation  is  to  be  inserted.  If  Mr.  Nichols 
cannot  easily  find  the  book,  Mr.  Johnson  will  send  it  from  Streatham." 

"  Clarendon  is  here  returned." 

"  By  some  accident,  I  laid  your  note  upon  Duke  up  so  safely,  that  I  cannot  find 
it.  Your  informations  have  been  of  great  use  to  me.  I  must  beg  it  again  ;  with 
another  list  of  our  authours,  for  I  have  laid  that  wth  the  other.  I  have  sent  Step- 
ney's Epitaph.     Let  me  have  the  revises  as  soon  as  can  be.     Dec.  1778." 

"  I  have  sent  Philips,  with  his  Epitaphs,  to  be  inserted.  The  fragment  of  a  pre- 
face is  hardly  worth  the  impression,  but  that  we  may  seem  to  do  something.  It  may 
be  added  to  the  Life  of  Philips.  The  Latin  page  i*  to  be  added  to  the  Life  of 
Smith.     I  shall  be  at  home  to  revise  the  two  sheets  of  Milton.     March  1,  1779." 

"  Please  to  get  me  the  last  edition  of  Hughes's  letters  ;  and  try  to  get  Dennis 
upon  Blackmore,  and  upon  Cato,  and  any  thing  of  the  same  writer  against  Pope. 
Our  materials  are  defective." 

"  As  Waller  professed  to  have  imitated  Fairfax,  do  you  think  a  few  pages  of 
Fairfax  would  enrich  our  edition  ?  Few  readers  have  seen  it,  and  it  may  please 
them.     But  it  is  not  necessary." 

"  An  account  of  the  lives  and  works  of  some  of  the  most  eminent  English  Poets. 
By,  &c. — '  The  Enghsh  Poets,  biographically  and  critically  considered,  by  Sam. 
Johnson.' — Let  Mr.  Nichols  take  his  choice,  or  make  another  to  his  mind.  May, 
1781." 

"  You  somehow  forgot  the  advertisement  for  the  new  edition.  It  was  not  enclos- 
ed. Of  Gay's  Letters  I  see  not  that  any  use  can  be  made,  for  they  give  no  inior- 
mation  of  any  thing.  That  he  was  a  member  of  a  Philosophical  Society  is  some- 
thing ;  but  surely  he  could  be  but  a  corresponding  member.  However,  not  hav- 
ing his  life  here,  I  know  not  how  to  put  it  in,  and  it  is  of  little  importance." 

See  several  more  in  "The  Gentleman's  Magazine,"  1785.  The  Editor  of  that 
Miscellany,  in  which  Johnson  wrote  for  several  years,  seems  justly  to  think  that 
every  fragment  of  so  great  a  man  is  worthy  of  beiog  preserved. 

VOL.  IH.  22 


1/0  THE    LIFE    OF 

1781.  up  too  much  room  in  this  work  ;  yet  I  shall  make  a 
^taT  ^^^^  observations  upon  some  of  them,  and  insert  a  few 
72.    various  readings. 

The  Life  of  Cowley  he  himself  considered  as  the 
best  of  the  whole,  on  account  of  the  dissertation  which 
it  contains  on  the  lijefapfufsical  Poets.  Dryden,  whose 
critical  abihties  were  equal  to  his  poetical,  had  men- 
tioned them  in  his  excellent  Dedication  of  his  Jnvenal, 
but  had  barely  mentioned  them.  Johnson  has  exhib- 
ited them  at  large,  with  such  happy  illustration  from 
their  writings,  and  in  so  luminous  a  manner,  that  in- 
deed he  may  be  allowed  the  full  merit  of  novelty,  and 
to  have  discovered  to  us,  as  it  were,  a  new  planet  in 
the  poetical  hen^sphere. 

It  is  remarked  by  Johnson,  in  considering  the  works 
of  a  poet,'  that  "  amendments  are  seldom  made  with- 
out some  token  of  a  rent  ;"  but  I  do  not  find  that  this 
is  applicable  to  prose. ^  We  shall  see  that  though  his 
amendments  in  this  work  are  for  the  better,  there  is 
nothmg  of  the  pannus  assutus ;  the  texture  is  uniform  : 
and  indeed,  what  had  been  there  at  first,  is  very  sel- 
dom unfit  to  have  remained. 

Various  Readings'^  in  the  Life  of  Cowley. 

"  All  [future  votaries  of]  that  may  hereafter  pant  for 
solitude. 

"  To  conceive  and  execute  the  [agitation  or  percep- 
tion] jw«m5  and  the  pleasures  of  other  minds. 

"  The  wide  effulgence  of  [the  blazing]  a  summer 
noon." 

In  the  Life  of  Waller,  Johnson  gives  a  distinct 
and  animated  narrative  of  publick  affairs  in  that  varie- 
gated period,  with  strong  yet  nice  touches  of  charac- 

>  Life  of  Sheffield 
^  [See,  however,  p.  1 48,  of  this  volume.where  the  same  remark  is  made,  and  John- 
son is  there  speaking  of  proie.     In  his  Life  of  Dryden,  his  observations  in  the  Opera 
of  "  King  Arthur"  furnish  a  striking  instance  of  the  truth  of  this  remark.     M.] 

'  The  original  reading  is  enclosed  in  crotchets,  and  the  present  one  is  printed  in 
ftalicks. 


DR.   JOHNSON.  171 

ter  ;  and  having  a  fair  opportunity  to  display  his  '78i. 
poHtical  principles,  does  it  with  an  unqualified  manly  ^^ 
confidence,  and  satisfies  his  readers  how  nobly  he  72.  ' 
might  have  executed  a  Torij  History  of  his  country. 

So  easy  is  his  style  in  these  Lives,  that  1  do  not  rec- 
ollect more  than  three  uncommon  or  learned  words  ; 
one,  when  giving  an  account  of  the  approach  of  Wal- 
ler's mortal  disease,  he  says,  "  he  found  his  legs  grow 
tumid  ;"  by  using  the  expression  his  legs  sKellecl^  he 
would  have  avoided  this  ;  and  there  would  have  been 
no  impropriety  in  its  being  followed  by  the  interest- 
ing question  to  his  physician,  "  What  that  swelling 
meant  V^  Another,  when  he  mentions  that  Pope  had 
emitted  proposals  ;  when  published  or  issued,  would 
have  been  more  readily  understood  ;  and  a  third,  when 
he  calls  Orrery  and  Dr.  Delany,  writers  both  undoubt- 
edly veracious  ;  when  true,  honest,  or  faithful,  might 
have  been  used.  Yet,  it  must  be  owned,  that  none  of 
these  are  hard  or  too  big  words  :  that  custom  would 
make  them  seem  as  easy  as  any  others  ;  and  that  a 
language  is  richer  and  capable  of  more  beauty  of  ex- 
pression, by  having  a  greater  variety  of  synonimes. 

His  dissertation  upon  the  unfitness  of  poetry  for  the 
aweful  subjects  of  our  holy  religion,  though  I  do  not 
entirely  agree  with  him,  has  all  the  merit  of  originality, 
with  uncommon  force  and  reasoning. 

Various  Readings  in  the  Life  of  Waller. 

^'  Consented  to  [the  insertion  of  their  names]  their 
own  nomination, 

"  [After]  patjing  a  fine  of  ten  thousand  pounds. 

"  Congratulating  Charles  the  Second  on  his  [coro- 
nation] recovered  right. 

"  He  that  has  flattery  ready  for  all  whom  the  vicissi- 
tudes of  the  world  happen  to  exalt,  must  be  [confessed 
to  degrade  his  powers]  scorned  as  a  prostituted  mind. 

"  The  characters  by  which  Waller  intended  to  dis- 
tinguish his  writings  are  [elegance]  spnghtliness  and 
dignity. 

"  Blossoms  to  be  valued  only  as  they  [fetch] ybre/e// 
fruits. 


173  THE    LIFE   OF 

1781.      "Images  such  as  the  superficies  of  nature  [easily] 
^^  readihf  supplies. 

72.        *'  [His]  Some  applications  [are  sometimes]  may  be 
thought  too  remote  and  unconsequential. 

"  His  images  are  [sometimes  confused]  not  ahiiays 
distinct" 

Against  his  Life  of  Milton,  the  hounds  of  Whig- 
gism  have  opened  in  full  crv.  But  ot  Milton's  great 
excellence  as  a  p>oet,  where  shall  we  find  such  a  blazon 
as  by  the  hand  of  Johnson  !  1  shall  select  only  tiie  fol- 
lowing passage  concerning  "  Paradise  Lost  ;" 

"  Fancy  can  hardly  forbear  to  conjecture  with  what 
temper  Milton  surveyed  the  silent  progress  of  his  work, 
and  marked  his  reputation  stealing  its  way  in  a  kind  of 
subterraneous  current,  through  fear  and  silence.  I 
cannot  but  conceive  him  calm  and  confident,  little  dis- 
appointed, not  at  all  dejected,  relying  on  his  own  merit 
with  steady  consciousness,  and  waiting  without  impa- 
tience, the  vicissitudes  of  opinion,  and  the  impartiality 
of  a  future  generation." 

Indeed  even  Dr.  Towers,  who  may  be  considered  as 
one  of  the  warmest  zealots  of  The  Revolution  Society 
itself,  allows,  that  "  Johnson  has  spoken  in  the  high- 
est terms  of  the  abilities  of  that  great  poet,  and  has 
bestowed  on  his  principal  poetical  compositions,  the 
most  honourable  encomiums."* 

That  a  man,  who  venerated  tho  Church  and  Mon- 
archy as  Johnson  did,  should  speak  with  a  justabhor- 

4  See  "  An  Essay  on  the  Lite,  Character,  and  Writings  of  Dr.  Samuel  Johnson." 
London,  1787  ;  which  b  very  well  written,  making  a  proper  allowance  for  thede- 
niocratical  bigotry  of  its  authour  :  whom  I  cannot  however  but  admire  for  his  hb- 
erality  in  speaking  thus  of  my  illustrious  friend  : 

"  He  possessed  extraordinary  powers  of  understanding,  which  were  much  culti- 
vated by  study,  and  still  more  by  meditation  and  reflection.  His  memory  was  re- 
markably retentive,  his  imagination  uncommonly  vigorous,  and  his  judgement 
keen  and  penetrating.  He  had  a  strong  sense  of  the  importance  of  religion  ;  his 
piety  was  sincere,  and  sometimes  ardent ;  and  his  zeal  for  the  interests  of  virtue  was 
often  manifested  in  his  conversation  and  in  his  writings.  The  same  energy  which 
was  displayed  in  his  literary  productions  was  exhibited  also  in  his  conversation, 
which  was  various,  striking,  and  instructive ;  and  perhaps  no  man  ever  equalled 
him  for  nervous  and  pointed  repartees. 

"  His  Dictionary,  his  moral  Essays,  and  his  productions  in  polite  literature,  will 
convey  useful  instruction,  and  elegant  entertainment,  as  long  as  the  language  ift 
Ts'hich  they  are  written  shall  be  understood." 


DR.    JOHNSON.  173 

fence  of  Milton  as  a  politician,  or  rather  as  a  daring  ^81. 
foe  to  good  polity,  was  surely  to  be  expected  ;  and  to  ^^ 
those  who  censure  him,  1  would  recommend  his  com-  72. 
mentary  on  Milton's  celebrated  complaint  of  his  situa- 
tion, when  by  the  lenity  of  Charles  the  Second,  "  a 
lenity  of  which  (as  Johnson  well  observes)  the  world 
has  had  perhaps  no  other  example,  he,  who  had  writ- 
teo  in  justification  of  the  murder  of  his  Sovereign,  was 
safe  under  an  Act  of  06/ivion"  "  No  sooner  is  he 
safe  than  he  finds  himself  in  danger,ya//^«  on  evil  days 
and  evil  tongues^  zmth  darkness  and  with  dangers  corU'^ 
passed  round.  This  darkness,  had  his  eyes  been  better 
employed,  had  undoubtedly  deserved  compassion  ;  but 
to  add  the  mention  of  danger,  was  ungrateful  and  un- 
just. He  was  fallen,  indeed,  on  evil  days  ;  the  time 
was  come  in  which  regicides  could  no  longer  boast 
their  wickedness.  But  of  evil  tongues  for  Milton  to 
complain,  required  imprudence  at  least  equal  to  his 
other  powers  ;  Milton,  whose  warmest  advocates  must 
allow,  that  he  never  spared  any  asperity  of  reproach, 
or  brutality  of  insolence." 

1  have,  indeed,  often  wondered  how  Milton,  "  an 
acrimonious  and  surly  Republican,"* — "  a  man  who 
in  his  domestick  relations  was  so  severe  and  arbitrary," ' 
and  whose  head  was  filled  with  the  hardest  and  most 
dismal  tenets  of  Calvinism,  should  have  been  such  a 
poet  ;  should  not  only  have  written  with  sublimity, 
but  with  beauty,  and  even  gaiety  ;  should  have  ex- 
quisitely painted  the  sweetest  sensations  of  which  our 
nature  is  capable  ;  imaged  the  delicate  raptures  of  con- 
nubial love  ;  nay,  seemed  to  be  animated  with  all  the 
spirit  of  revelry.  It  is  a  proof  that  in  the  human  mind 
the  departments  of  judgement  and  imagination,  per- 
ception and  temper,  may  sometimes  be  divided  by 
strong  partitions  ;  and  that  the  light  and  shade  in  the 
same  character  may  be  kept  so  distinct  as  never  to  be 
blended.  "^ 

♦  Johnson's  Life  of  Milton.  » Ibid. 

*  Mr.  Malone  thinks  it  is  rather  a  proof  that  he  felt  n6thing  of  those  cheerful 
sensations  which  he  has  described  :  that  on  these  topicks  it  is  the  ^oet,  and  not  the' 
man,  that  writes. 


174  THE    LIFE    OF 

1781.  In  the  Life  of  Milton,  Johnson  took  occasion  to  main- 
^^  tain  his  own  and  the  general  opinion  of  the  excellence 
72.  of  rhyme  over  blank  verse,  in  English  poetrv  ;  and  quotes 
this  apposite  illustration  of  it  by  "  an  ingenious  critick," 
that  it  seems  to  be  verse  only  to  the  eye.''  The  gentle- 
man whom  he  thus  characterises,  is  (as  he  told  Mr.  Se- 
ward) Mr.  Lock,  of  Norbury  Park,  in  Surrey,  whose 
knowledge  and  taste  in  the  fine  arts  is  universally  cele- 
brated ;  with  whose  elegance  of  manners  the  writer  of 
the  present  work  has  felt  himself  much  impressed,  and 
to  whose  virtues  a  common  friend,  who  has  known  him 
long,  and  is  not  much  addicted  to  flattery,  gives  the 
highest  testimony. 

Various  Readings  in  the  Life  o/* Milton. 

"  I  cannot  find  any  meaning  but  this  which  [his  most 
bigoted  advocates]  even  kindness  and  reverence  can  give. 

"  [Perhaps  no]  scarcely  any  man  ever  wrote  so  much, 
and  praised  so  few. 

"  A  certain  \ye%c\xe\  preservative  from  oblivion. 

"  Let  me  not  be  censured  for  this  digression,  as  [con- 
tracted] pedantick  or  paradoxical. 

"  Socrates  rather  was  of  opinion,  that  what  we  had 
to  learn  was  how  to  [obtain  and  communicate  happi- 
ness] do  good  and  avoid  evil. 

"  Its  elegance  [who  can  exhibit  ]]  is  less  attainable" 

I  could,  with  pleasure,  expatiate  upon  the  masterly 
execution  of  the  Life  of  Dryden,  which  we  have  seen* 
was  one  of  Johnson's  literary  projects  at  an  early  period, 
and  which  it  is  remarkable,  that  after  desisting  from  it, 
from  a  supposed  scantiness  of  materials,  he  should,  at 
an  advanced  age,  have  exhibited  so  amply. 

His  defence  of  that  great  poet  against  the  illiberal  at- 
tacks upon  him,  as  if  his  embracing  the  Roman  Catho- 

■>  One  of  the  most  natural  instances  of  the  effect  of  blank  verse  occurred  to  the 
late  Earl  of  Hopeton.  His  Lordship  observed  one  of  his  shepherds  poring  in  the 
fields  upon  Milton's  "  Paradise  Lost  ;"  and  having  asked  him  what  book  it  was, 
the  man  answered,  "  An't  please  your  Lordship,  this  is  a  very  odd  sort  of  an  au- 
thour  :  he  would  fain  rhyme,  but  cannot  get  at  h." 

» See  Vol.  II.  page  333, 


DR.   JOHNSON.  175 

lick  communion  had  been  a  time-serving  measure,  is  a  *78i. 
piece  of  reasoning  at  once  able  and  candid.     Indeed,  ^J^ 
Dryden  himself,  in  his  "  Hind  and  Panther,"  hath  given   72.  * 
such  a  picture  of  his  mind,   that  they  who  know  the 
anxiety  for  repose  as  to  the  aweful  subject  of  our  state 
beyond  the  grave,   though  they   may  think  his  opinion 
ill-founded,  must  think  charitably  of  his  sentiment  : 

"  But,  gracious  God,  how  well  dost  thou  provide 

"  For  erring  judgements  an  unerring  guide  ! 

"  Thy  throne  is  darkness  in  the  abyss  of  light, 

"  A  blaze  of  glory  that  forbids  the  sight. 

"  O  !  teach  me  to  believe  thee  thus  conceal'd, 

"  And  search  no  farther  than  thyself  reveaPd  ; 

"  But  Her  alone  for  my  director  take, 

"  Whom  thou  hast  promisM  never  to  forsake. 

"  My  thoughtless  youth  was  wing'd  with  vain  desires; 

"  My  manhood  long  misled  by  wand'ring  fires, 

"  Follow'd  false  lights ;  and  when  their  glimpse  was 

gone, 
"  My  pride  struck  out  new  sparkles  of  her  own. 
"  Such  was  1,  such  by  nature  still  1  am  ; 
"  Be  thine  the  glory,  and  be  mine  the  shame. 
"  Good  hfe  be  now  my  task  :  my  doubts  are  done  ; 
"  What  more  could  shock  my  faith  than  Three  in 

One  ?" 

In  drawing  Dryden's  character,  Johnson  has  given, 
though  1  suppose  unintentionally,  some  touches  of  his 
own.  Thus  :  "  The  power  that  predominated  in  his 
intellectual  operations  was  rather  strong  reason  than 
quick  sensibility.  Upon  all  occasions  that  were  present- 
ed, he  studied  rather  than  felt ;  and  produced  sentiments 
not  such  as  Nature  enforces,  but  meditation  supplies. 
With  the  simple  and  elemental  passions  as  they  spring 
separate  in  the  mind,  he  seems  not  much  acquainted. 
He  is,  therefore,  with  all  his  variety  of  excellence,  not 
often  pathetick  ;^  and  had  so  little  sensibihty  of  the 
power  of  effusions  purely  natural,  that  he  did  not  esteem 

'  [It  seems  to  me,  that  there  are  maoy  pathetick  passages  ip.  /•boson's  W9rks, 
bath  prose  and  verse.    K.] 


176  THE    LIFE    OF 

1781.  them  in  others/* — Tt  may  indeed  be  observed,  that  in 

2J^  ali  the  numerous  writings  of  Johnson,  whether  in  prose 

72,    or  verse,  and  even  in  his  Tragedy,  of  which  the  subject 

is  the  distress  of  an  unfortunate  Princess,  there  is  not 

a  single  passage  that  ever  drew  a  tear. 

Various  Headings  in  the  Life  o/"  Dry  den. 

"  The  reason  of  this  general  perusal,  Addison  has  at- 
tempted to  [find  in]  derive  from  the  delight  which  the 
mind  feels  in  the  investigation  of  secrets. 

"  His  best  actions  are  but  [convenient]  inability  of 
wickedness. 

"  When  once  he  had  engaged  himself  in  disputation, 
[matter]  thoughts  flowed  in  on  either  side. 

"  The  abyss  of  an  un-ideal  [emptiness]  raca^zcy. 

*'  These,  like  [many  other  harlots,]  the  harlots  ofoth" 
er  men^  had  his  love  though  not  his  approbation. 

*'  He  [sometimes  displays]  descends  to  display  his 
knowledge  with  pedantick  ostentation. 

"  French  words  which  [were  then  used  in]  had  then 
crept  into  conversation." 

The  Life  of  Pope  was  written  bv  Johnson  con  amore, 
both  from  the  early  possession  which  that  writer  had  taken 
of  his  mind,  and  from  the  pleasure  which  he  must  have 
felt,  in  for  ever  silencing  all  attempts  to  lessen  his  po- 
etical fame,  by  demonstrating  his  excellence,  and  pro- 
nouncing the  following  triumphant  eulogium  : — ''  Af- 
ter all  this,  it  is  surely  superfluous  to  answer  the  ques- 
tion that  has  once  been  asked.  Whether  Pope  was  a 
poet?  otherwise  than  by  asking  in  return,  if  Pope  be 
not  a  poet,  where  is  poetry  to  be  found  ?  To  circum- 
scribe poetry  by  a  definition,  will  only  shew  the  nar- 
rowness of  the  definer  ;  though  a  definition  which  shall 
exclude  Pope  will  not  easily  be  made.  Let  us  look 
round  upon  the  present  time,  and  back  upon  the  past , 
let  us  enquire  to  whom  the  voice  of  mankind  has  de- 
creed the  wreath  of  poetry  ;  let  their  productions  be 
examined,  and  their  claims  stated,  and  the  pretensions 
of  Pope  will  be  no  more  disputed/' 


DR.    JOHNSON.  177 

I  remember  once  to  have  heard  Johnson  say,  "  Sir,  '781. 
a  thousand  years  may  elapse  before  there  shall  appear  ^Et^. 
another  man  with  a  power  of  versification   equal  to   72.  * 
that  of  Pope."     That  power  must  undoubtedly  be  al- 
lowed its  due  share  in  enhancing  the  value  of  his  cap- 
tivating composition. 

Johnson  who  had  done  liberal  justice  to  Warburton 
in  his  edition  of  Shakspeare,  which  was  published  dur- 
ing the  life  of  that  powerful  writer,  with  still  greater 
liberality  took  an  opportunity,  in  the  life  of  Pope,  of 
paying  the  tribute  due  to  him  when  he  was  no  longer 
in  "  high  place,"  but  numbered  with  the  dead.' 

'  Of  Jolinson's  conduct  towards  Warburton,  a  very  honourable  notice  is  taken 
by  the  Editor  of  "  Tracts  by  Warburton,  and  a  Warburtoniau,  not  admitted  into 
the  Collection  of  their  respective  Works."  After  an  able  and  "  fond,  though  not 
undistinguishing,"  consideration  of  Warburton's  character,  he  says,  "  In  two  im- 
mortal works,  Johnson  has  stood  forth  in  the  foremost  rank  of  his  admirers.  By 
the  testimony  of  such  a  man,  impertinence  must  be  abashed,  and  maHgnity  itself 
must  be  softened.  Of  literary  merit,  Johnson,  as  we  all  know,  was  a  sagacious 
but  a  most  severe  judge.  Such  was  his  discernment,  that  he  pierced  into  the  most 
secret  springs  of  human  actions  ;  and  such  was  his  integrity,  that  he  always  weigh- 
ed the  moral  characters  of  his  fellow-creatures  in  the  '  balance  of  the  sanctuary.* 
He  was  too  courageous  to  propitiate  a  rival,  and  too  proud  to  truckle  to  a  supe- 
riour.  Warburton  he  knew,  as  I  know  him,  and  as  every  man  of  sense  and  virtue 
would  wish  to  be  known, —I  mean,  both  from  his  own  writings,  and  from  the 
writings  of  those  who  dissented  from  his  principles,  or  who  envied  his  reputation. 
But,  as  to  favours,  he  had  never  received  or  asked  any  from  the  Bishop  of  Glou- 
cester :  and,  if  my  memory  fails  me  not,  he  had  seen  him  only  once,  when  they  met 
almost  without  design,  conversed  without  mucli  effort,  and  parted  without  any  last- 
ing impression  of  hatred  or  affection.  Yet,  with  all  the  ardour  of  sympathetick 
genius,  Johnson  had  done  that  spontaneously  and  ably,  which,  by  some  writers, 
had  been  before  attempted  injudiciouslv,  and  which,  by  others,  from  whom  more 
successful  attempts  might  have  been  expected,  has  not  hitherto  been  done  at  alL 
He  spoke  well  of  Warburton,  without  insulting  those  whom  Warburton  deepised. 
He  suppressed  not  the  imperfections  of  this  extraordinary  man,  while  he  endeav- 
oured to  do  justice  to  his  numerous  and  transcendental  excellencies.  He  defend- 
ed him  when  living,  amidst  the  clamours  of  his  enemies ;  and  praised  him  when 
dead,  amidst  the  silence  of  his  friends" 

Having  availed  myself  of  this  editor's  eulogj'  on  my  departed  friend,  for  which 
I  warmly  thank  him,  let  me  not  suffer  the  lustre  of  liis  reputation,  honestly  acquir- 
ed by  profound  learning  and  vigorous  eloquence,  to  be  tarnished  by  a  charge  of 
iUiberality.  He  has  been  accused  of  invidiously  dragging  again  into  light  certain 
writings  of  a  person  respectable  by  his  talents,  his  learning,  his  station  and  his  age, 
which  were  pubhshed  a  great  many  years  ago,  and  have  since,  it  is  said,  been  si- 
lently given  up  by  their  authour.  But  when  it  is  considered  that  these  writings 
were  not  sins  of  youth,  but  deUberate  works  of  one  well-advanced  in  hfe,  overflow- 
ing at  once  with  flattery  to  a  great  man  of  great  interest  in  the  Church,  and  with 
unjust  and  acrimonious  abuse  of  two  men  of  eminent  merit ;  and  that,  though  it 
would  have  been  unreasonable  to  expect  an  humiliating  recantation,  no  apology 
whatever  has  been  made  in  the  cool  of  the  evening,  for  the  oppressive  fervour 
of  the  heat  of  the  day ;  no  sUght  relenting  indication  has  appeared  in  any  note,  or 
any  corner  of  later  publication? ;  is  it  not  fair  to  understand  him  as  superciliously 

voK.  in.  o.'j 


178  THE    LIFE    OF 

^781.  It  seems  strange,  that  two  such  men  as  Johnson  and 
iFtai  ^V^^'l^nrton,  who  lived  in  the  same  age  and  country, 
72.  should  not  only  not  have  been  in  any  degree  of  inti- 
macy, but  been  ahiiost  personally  unacquainted.  But 
such  instances,  though  we  must  wonder  at  them,  are 
not  rare.  If  I  am  rightly  informed,  after  a  careful  en- 
quiry, they  never  met  but  once,  which  was  at  the 
house  of  Mrs.  French,  in  London,  well  known  for  her 
elegant  assemblies,  and  bringing  eminent  characters 
together.  The  interview  proved  to  be  mutually 
agreeable. 

1  am  well  informed,  that  Warburton  said  of  Johnson, 
"  1  admne  him,  but  1  cannot  bear  his  style  :"  and  that 
Johnson  being  told  of  this,  said,  "  That  is  exactly  my 
case  as  to  him.'*  The  manner  in  which  he  expressed 
his  admiration  of  the  fertility  of  Warburton's  genius 
and  of  the  variety  of  his  materials,  was,  "  The  table  is 
always  full,  Sir.  He  brings  things  from  the  north,  and 
the  south,  and  from  every  quarter.  In  his  '  Divine 
Legation,'  you  are  always  entertained.  He  carries 
you  round  and  round,  without  carrying  you  forward  to 
the  point  ;  but  then  you  have  no  wish  to  be  carried 
forward."  He  said  to  the  Reverend  Mr.  Strahan, 
"  VVarburton  is  perhaps  the  last  man  who  has  written 
with  a  mind  full  of  reading  and  reflection." 

It  is  remarkable,  that  in  the  Life  of  Broome,  John- 
son takes  notice  of  Dr.  Warburton  using  a  mode  of 
expression  which  he  himself  used,  and  that  not  seldom, 
to  the  great  offence  of  those  who  did  not  know  him. 
Having  occasion  to  mention  a  note,  stating  the  differ- 
ent parts  which  were  executed  by  the  associated  trans- 
lators of  "  The  Odyssey,"  he  says,  "  Dr.  Warburton 
told  me,  in  his  warm  language,  that  he  thought  the 
relation  given  in  the  note  a  lie.  The  language  is  xisarm 
indeed  ;  and,  I  must  own,  cannot  be  justified  in  con- 
sistency with  a  decent  regard  to  the  established  forms 
of  speech."  Johnson  had  accustomed  himself  to  use 
the  word  Ue^   to  express  a  mistake  or  an  errour  in  rela- 

persevering  ?  Wlien  he  allows  the  shafts  to  remain  in  the  wounds,  and  will  not 
stretch  forth  a  lenient  hand,  is  it  wrong,  is  it  not  generous  to  become  an  indignant 
avenger  ? 


DR.    JOHNSON.  179 

tion  ;   in  short,  when  the   thing  was  not  so  as  toJd,  nsi. 
though  the  relator  did  not  mean  to  deceive.     \V  hen  he  ^t^ 
thought  there  was  inteniional  falsehood  in  the  relator,   72. 
his  expression   was,  "  He  lies^   and  he  knoics  he  /ies.'* 

Speaking  of  Pope's  not  having  been  known  to  excel 
in  conversation,  Johnson  observes,  that,  "  traditional 
memory  retains  no  sallies  of  raillery,  or  sentences  of 
observation  ;  nothing  either  pointed  or  solid,  wise  or 
merry  ;  and  that  one  apophthegm  only  is  recorded." 
In  this  respect,  Pope  differed  widely  from  Johnson, 
whose  conversation  was,  perhaps,  more  admirable  than 
even  his  writings,  however  excellent.  Mr.  Wilkes 
has,  however,  favoured  me  with  one  repartee  of  Pope, 
of  which  Johnson  was  not  informed.  Johnson,  after 
justly  censuring  him  for  having  "  nursed  in  his  inind 
a  foolish  dis-esteem  of  Kings,"  tells  us,  "  yet  a  little 
regard  shewn  him  by  the  Prince  of  Wales  melted  his 
obduracy  ;  and  he  had  not  much  to  say  when  he  was 
asked  by  his  Royal  Highness,  how  he  could'  love  a 
Prince^  while  he  disliked  Kings  /"  The  answer  which 
pope  made,  was,  "  The  young  lion  is  harmless,  and 
even  playful  ;  but  when  his  claws  are  full  grown  he 
becomes  cruel,  dreadful  and  mischievous." 

But  although  we  have  no  collection  of  Pope's  say- 
ings, it  is  not  therefore  to  be  concluded,  thai  he  was 
not  agreeable  in  social  intercourse  ;  for  Johnson  has 
been  heard  to  say,  that  "  the  happiest  conversation  is 
that  of  which  nothing  is  distinctly  remembered,  but 
a  general  effect  of  pleasing  impression."  The  late 
Lord  Somerville,^  who  saw  much  both  of  great  and 
brilliant  life,  told  me,  that  he  had  dined  in  company 
with  Pope,  and  that  after  dinner  the  little  man,  as  he 

^  [James  Lord  SomervIIIe,  who  died  in  1766.     M.] 

Let  me  here  express  my  grateful  remembrance  of  Lord  Somerville's  kindness  to 
me,  at  a  very  early  period.  He  was  the  first  person  of  high  rank  that  took  partic- 
ular notice  of  me  in  the  way  most  flattering  to  a  young  man  fondly  ambitious  of 
being  distinguished  for  his  Uterary  talents  ;  and  by  the  honour  of  his  encourage- 
ment made  me  think  well  of  myself,  and  aspire  to  deserve  it  better.  He  had  a 
happy  art  of  communicating  his  varied  knowledge  of  the  world,  in  short  remarks 
and  anecdotes,  with  a  quiet  pleasant  gravity,  that  was  exceedingly  engaging.  Nev- 
er shall  I  forget  the  hours  which  I  enjoyed  with  him  at  his  apartments  in  the  Royal 
Palace  of  Holy-Rood  House,  and  at  his  seat  near  Edinburgh,  which  he  himself  had 
formed  with  an  elegant  taste. 


180  THE    LIFE    OF 

1781.  called  him,  drank  his  bottle  of  Burgundy,  and  was  ex- 

]g^  ceedingly  gay  and  entertaining. 

72.  I  cannot  withhold  from  my  great  friend  a  censure  of 
at  least  culpable  inattention,  to  a  nobleman,  who,  it 
has  been  shewn,  behaved  to  him  with  uncommon 
politeness.  He  says,  "  Except  Lord  Bathurst,  none 
of  Pope's  noble  friends  were  such  as  that  a  good  man 
would  wish  to  have  his  intimacy  with  them  known  to 
posterity.^'  This  will  not  apply  to  Lord  Mansfield, 
who  was  not  ennobled  in  Pope's  life  time  ;  but  John- 
son should  have  recollected,  that  Lord  Marchmont 
was  one  of  those  noble  friends.  He  includes  his  Lord- 
ship along  with  Lord  Bolingbroke,  in  a  charge  of 
neglect  of  the  papers  which  Pope  left  by  his  will  ; 
when,  in  truth,  as  1  myself  pointed  out  to  him,  before 
he  wrote  that  poet's  life,  the  papers  were  "  committed 
to  the  sole  care  and  judgement  of  Lord  Bolingbroke, 
unless  he  (Lord  Bolingbroke)  shall  not  survive  me  ;" 
so  that  Lord  Marchmont  had  no  concern  whatever 
with  them.  After  the  first  edition  of  the  Lives,  Mr. 
Malone,  whose  love  of  justice  is  equal  to  his  accuracy, 
made,  in  my  hearing,  the  same  remark  to  Johnson  ; 
yet  he  omitted  to  correct  the  erroneous  statement.  ^ 
These  particulars  I  mention,  in  the  belief  that  there 
was  only  forgetfulness  in  my  friend  ;  but  I  owe  this 
much  to  the  Earl  of  Marchmont's  reputation,  who, 
were  there  no  other  memorials,  will  be  immortalized 
by  that  line  of  Pope,  in  the  verses  on  his  Grotto  : 

"  And  the    bright    flame  was   shot   through   March- 
mont's soul." 

Various  Readings  in  the  Life  of  Pope. 

*'  [Somewhat  free]  siifijciently  hold  in  his  criticism. 
"  All  the  gay  [niceties]  varieties  of  diction. 
"  Strikes  the  imagination   with  far  [more]  greater 
force. 

'  [This  neglect,  Iiowever,  assuredly  did  not  arise  from  any  ill-will  towards  Lord 
Marchmont,  but  from  inattention  ;  just  as  he  neglected  to  correct  the  statement 
concerning  the  family  of  Tliomson,  the  poet,  aft«r  it  had  been  shewn  to  be  erro- 
neous.   M.] 


I 


DR.   JOHNSON*  ISl 

"It  is  [probably]  certainlij  the  noblest  version  of '781. 
poetry  which  the  world  has  ever  seen.  ^mx^, 

"  Every  sheet  enabled  him   to  write  the  next  with    72.* 
[less  trouble]  more  facility 

"  No  man  sympathizes  with  [vanity  depressed]  the 
Mr  rows  ofvanitij. 

"  It  had  been  [criminal]  less  easily  excused. 

"  When  he  [threatened  to  lay  down]  talked  of  laying 
down  his  pen. 

"  Society  [is  so  named  emphatically  in  opposition  to] 
politically  regulated^  is  a  state  contra-distinguished  from 
a  state  of  nature. 

"  A  fictitious  life  of  an  [absurd]  infatuated  scholar. 

"  A  foolish  [contempt,  disregard,]  disesteein  of  Kings. 

^'  His  hopes  and  fears,  his  joys  and  sorrows  [were 
like  those  of  other  mortals]  acted  strongly  upon  his 
mind. 

"  Eager  to  pursue  knowledge  and  attentive  to  [accu- 
mulate] retain  it. 

"  A  mind  [excursive]  active.^  ambitious,  and  adven- 
turous. 

"  In  its  [noblest]  widest  searches  still  longing  to  go 
forward. 

"  He  wrote  in  such  a  manner  as  might  expose  him 
to  few  [neglects]  hazards. 

"  The  [reasonableness]  justice  of  my  determination. 

"  A  [favourite]  delicious  employment  of  the  poets. 

"  More  terrifick  and  more  powerful  \hG\\\^^^  phantoms 
perform  on  the  stormy  ocean. 

"  The  inventor  of  [those]  this  petty  [beings]  nation. 

"  The  [mind]  heart  naturally  loves  truth." 

In  the  Life  of  Addison  we  find  an  unpleasing  ac- 
count of  his  having  lent  vSteele  a  hundred  pounds,  and 
"  reclaimed  his  loan  by  an  execution."  In  the  new 
edition  of  the  Biographia  Britannica,  the  authenticity 
of  this  anecdote  is  denied.  But  Mr.  Malone  has  oblig- 
ed me  with  the  following  note  concerning  it : — 

"  Many  persons  having  doubts  concerning  this  fact, 
I  applied  to  Dr.  Johnson,  to  learn  on  what  authority  he 
asserted  it.     He  told  me,  he  had  it  from  Savage,  who 


182  THE    LIFE    OF 

1781.  lived  in  intimacy  with  Steele,  and  who  mentioned,  that 
2E^  Steele  told  him  the  story  with  tears  in  liis  eyes. — Ben 
72.  Victor,  Dr.  Johnson  said,  likewise  informed  him  of  this 
remarkable  transaction,  from  the  relation  of  Mr.  Wilkes 
the  comedian,  who  was  also  an  intimate  of  Steele's.* — 
Some  in  defence  of  Addison,  have  said,  that  '  the  act 
was  done  with  the  good  natured  view  of  rousing  Steele, 
and  correcting  that  profusion  which  always  made  him 
necessitous.' — *■  If  that  were  the  case,  (said  Johnson,) 
and  that  he  only  wanted  to  alarm  Steele,  he  would  af- 
terwards have  returned  the  money  to  his  friend,  which 
it  is  not  pretended  he  did.' — '  This,  too,  (he  added,) 
might  be  retorted  by  an  advocate  for  Steele,  who  might 
alledge,  that  he  did  not  repay  the  loan  intentionally^ 
merely  to  see  whether  Addison  would  be  mean  and 
ungenerous  enough  to  make  use  of  legal  process  to  re- 
cover it.  But  of  such  speculations  there  is  no  end  : 
we  cannot  dive  into  the  hearts  of  men  ;  but  their  ac- 
tions are  open  to  observation.^ 

"  1  then  mentioned  to  him  that  some  people  thought 
that  Mr.  Addison's  character  was  so  pure,  that  the  fact, 
though  true^  ought  to  have  been  suppressed.  He  saw 
no  reason  for  this.  '  If  nothing  but  the  bright  side  of 
characters  should  be  shewn,  we  should  sit  down  in  de- 
spondency, and  think  it  utterly  impossible  to  imitate 
them  in  any  thing.  The  sacred  writers  (he  observed) 
related  the  vicious  as  well  as  the  virtuous  actions  of 
men  ;  which  had  this  moral  effect,  that  it  kept  mankind 
from  despair,  into  which  otherwise  they  would  natur- 
ally fall,  were  they  not  supported  by  the  recollection 
that  others  had  offended  like  themselves,  and  by  peni- 
tence and  amendment  of  life  had  been  restored  to  the 
favour  of  Heaven." 
"  March  15,  1782.  E.  M." 

The  last  paragraph  of  this  note  is  of  great  importance  ; 
and  I  request  that  my  readers  may  consider  it  with  par- 

*  [The  late  Mr.  Burke  informed  me,  in  1792,  that  Lady  Dorothea  Primrose, 
who  died  at  a  great  age,  I  think  in  1768,  and  had  been  well  acquainted  with  Steekj 
told  him  the  same  story.     M.J 


i 


DR.    JOHNSON.  183 

t-icular  attention.     It  will  be  afterwards  referred  to  in  i78i. 
this  work.  ^J^ 

Various  readings  in  the  Life  o/"  Addison.  ^^* 

"  [But  he  was  our  first  example]  He  was^  hoiveveri 
one  of'  our  earliest  examples  of  correctness. 

"  And  foveriookj  despise  their  masters. 

"  His  instructions  were  such  as  the  [state]  character 
of  his  .  own  time]  readers  made  [necessary]  proper. 

"  His  purpose  was  to  (diffuse]  infuse  literary  curiosi- 
ty by  gentle  and  unsuspected  conveyance  [among]  into 
the  gay,  the  idle,  and  the  wealthy. 

"  Framed  rather  for  those  that  [wish]  are  learning 
HOI  to  write. 

"  Domestick  [manners]  scenes" 

In  his  life  of  Parnell,  I  wonder  that  Johnson  omit- 
ted to  insert  an  Epitaph  which  he  had  long  before  com- 
posed for  that  amiable  man,  without  ever  writing  it 
down,  but  which  he  was  so  good  as,  at  my  request,  to 
dictate  to  me,  by  which  means  it  has  been  preserved, 

"  Hie  requiescit  Thomas  Parnell,  S.  T.  P. 

"  Qui  sacerdos  pariter  et  poeta, 

**  Utrasque  partes  iia  impfe-oit, 

"  Ut  neque  sacerdoti  suavitas  poetce^ 

"  Nee  poetce  sac  er  dot  is  sanctitas,  deesset." 

Various  readings  in  the  Lfe  of  F ARi!i ELL» 

"  About  three  years  [after]  afterwards, 
"  [Did  not  much  want]  was  in  no  great  need  of  im- 
provement. 

"  But  his  prosperity  did  not  last  long  [was  clouded 
with  that  which  took  away  all  his  powers  of  enj'n  ing 
either  profit  or  pleasure,  the  death  of  his  wife,  whom 
he  is  said  to  have  lamented  with  such  sorrow,  as 
hastened  his  end.  5]  His  end,  whatever  was  the  cause, 
was  now  approaching. 

">  I  should  have  thought  that  JoJ^nson  who  had  felt  the  severe  aflliction  from 
which  Parnell  never  recovered,  would  have  preserved  this  passage. 

[He  omitted  it,  doubtless,  because  he  afterwards  learneu  .hat,  however  he  migh* 
have  lamented  his  wife,  his  end  w«vs  hastened  by  other  means.     M.^ 


184.  THE    LIFE    OP 

1781.      "  In  the  Hermit,  the  [composition]  narrative,  as  it 

^2J^  is  less  airy,  is  less  pleasing." 

72. 

In  the  life  of  Blackmore,  we  find  that  writer's  rep- 
utation generously  cleared  by  Johnson  from  the  cloud 
of  prejudice  which  the  malignity  of  contemporary  wits 
had  raised  around  it.  In  this  spirited  exertion  of  jus- 
tice, he  has  been  imitated  by  Sir  Joshua  Keynolds,  in 
his  praise  of  the  architecture  of  Vanburgh. 

We  trace  Johnson's  own  character  in  his  observa- 
tions on  Blackmore's  " magnanimity  as  an  authour.' — 
"  The  incessant  attacks  of  his  enemies,  whether  serious 
or  merry,  are  never  discovered  to  have  disturbed  his 
quiet,  or  to  have  lessened  his  confidence  in  himself." 
Johnson,  I  recollect,  once  told  me,  laughing  heartily, 
that  he  understood  it  had  been  said  of  him,  "  He  ap- 
pears  not  to  feel ;  but  when  he  is  alone^  depend  upon 
it,  he  suffers  sadly.^^  1  am  as  certain  as  1  can  be  of 
any  man's  real  sentiments,  that  he  enjoijed  the  perpetual 
shower  of  little  hostile  arrows  as  evidences  of  his  fame. 

Various  readings  in  the  Life  of  Blackmore. 

"  To  [setj  engage  poetry  [on  the  side]  in  the  cause 
of  virtue. 

"  He  likewise  [established]  enforced  the  truth  of 
Revelation. 

"  [Kindness]  benevolence  was  ashamed  to  favour. 

"  His  practice,  which  was  once  [very  extensive]  in- 
vidiously areat. 

"  There  is  scarcely  any  distemper  of  dreadful  name 
[of]  which  he  has  not  [shewn]  taught  his  reader  how 
[it  is  to  be  opposed]  to  oppose. 

"  Of  this  [contemptuous]  indecent  arrogance. 

"  [He  wrote]  but  produced  likewise  a  work  of  a  differ- 
ent kind. 

"  At  least  [written]  compifed  with  integrity. 

"  Faults  which  many  tongues  [were  desirous]  would 
have  made  haste  to  pubhsh. 

"  But  though  he  [had  not]  could  not  boast  of  much 
critical  knowledge. 


DR.   JOHNSON.  18a 

'•*  He  [used]  waited  for  no  felicities  of  fancy.  i78i. 

"  Or  had  ever  elated  his  [mind]  views  born  to  that  ^^ 
ideal  perfection  which  every  [mind]  genius  born  to  ex-   72. 
eel  is  condemned  always  to  pursue  and  never  overtake. 

"  The  [first  great]  fundamental  principle  of  wisdom 
and  of  virtue." 

Various  readings  in  the  Life  o/' Philips. 

"  His  dreadful  [rival]  antagonist  Pope. 

"  They  [have  not  often  much]  are  not  loaded  with 
thought. 

"  In  his  translation  from  Pindar,  he  [will  not  be  de- 
nied to  have  reached]  y^wW  the  art  oj  reaching  all  the 
obscurity  of  the  Theban  bard." 

Various  readings  in  the  Lfe  of  Congreve. 

"  Congreve's  conversation  must  surely  have  been  af 
Ze«^^  equally  pleasing  with  his  writings. 

'*  It  apparently  [requires]  presupposes  a  familiar 
knowledge  of  many  characters. 

"  Reciprocation  of  [similes]  conceits. 

"  The  dialogue  is  quick  and  [various]  sparkling, 

"  Love  for  Love  ;  a  comedy  [more  drawn  from  life] 
of  nearer  alliance  to  lfe. 

"  The  general  character  of  his  miscellanies  is,  that 
they  shew  little  wit  and  [no]  little  virtue. 

*'•  [Perhaps]  certuinlif  he  had  not  the  fire  requisite 
for  the  higher  species  of  lyrick  poetry." 

Various  readings  in  the  Life  of  Tickell, 

*'  [Longed]  lorig  wished  to  peruse  it. 
"  At  the  [accession]  arrival  of  King  George. 
"  Fiction  [unnaturally]  unskilfullij   compounded  of 
Grecian  deities  and  Gothick  fairies." 

Various  readings  in  the  Life  of  Akenside. 

"  For  [another]  a  different  purpose. 

"  [A  furious]  an  unnecessarij  and  outrageous  zeal, 

VOL.  III.  94 


l^ii  THE    LIFE    OF 

1781.      "  [Something  which]  what  he  called  and  thought 
^"'^'''^  liberty. 

"  A  [favourer  of  innovation]  /over  of  contradiction. 

"  Warburton's  [censure]  objections. 

"His  rage  [for  libert\J  of  patriotism. 

"  Mr.  Dyson  with  [a  zeal  j  an  ardour  of  friendship." 

In  the  life  of  Lyttelton,  Johnson  seems  to  have 
been  not  favourably  disposed  towards  that  nobleman. 
Mrs.  Thrale  suggests  that  he  was  offended  by  Molly 
Aston's  preference  of  his  Lordship  to  him.*     I  can  by 

''  Let  not  my  readers  smile  to  think  of  Johnson's  being  a  candidate  for  female 
favour ;  Mr.  Peter  Garrick  assured  me,  that  he  was  told  by  a  lady,  that  in  her 
opinion  Johnson  was  "  a  very  seducing  tnan."  Disadvantages  of  person  and  manner 
may  be  forgotten,  where  intellectual  pleasure  is  communicated  to  a  susceptible 
mind  ;  and  tliat  Johnson  was  capable  of  feeling  the  most  delicate  and  disinterested 
attachment,  appears  from  the  following  letter,  which  is  published  by  Mrs.  Thrale, 
with  some  others  to  the  same  person,  of  which  the  excellence  is  not  so  apparent  : 


•  TO  MISS  BOOTHBY. 


"DEAREST  MADAM,  JaHuafy,  I 775. 

"Though  I  am  afraid  your  illness  leaves  you  little  leisure  for  the  reception 
of  airy  civilities,  yet  I  cannot  forbear  to  pay  you  my  congratulations  on  the  new 
year  ;  and  to  declare  my  wishes  that  your  years  to  come  may  be  many  and  happy. 
In  this  wish,  indeed,  I  include  myself)  who  have  none  but  you  on  whom  my  heart 
reposes  ;  yet  surely  I  wish  your  good,  even  though  your  situation  were  such  as 
should  permit  you  to  communicate  no  gratifications  to,  dearest,  dearest  Madam, 

"  Your,  &c. 

"  Sam.  Johnson." 

[There  is  still  a  sliglit  mistake  in  the  text.  It  wa  not  Molly  Aston,  but  Hill 
Boothby,  for  waose  affections  Johnson  and  Lord  Lyttelton  were  rival  candi^tes. 
See  Mrs.  Piozzi's  "  Anecdotes,"  p.  160.  After  mentioning  the  death  of  Mrs. 
Fitzherbert  (who  was  a  daughter  of  Mr.  Meynell  of  Bradley  in  Derbyshire,)  and 
Johnson's  high  admiration  of  her,  she  adds,  ''  The  friend  of  this  lady.  Miss  Booth- 
by, succeeded  her  in  the  management  of  Mr.  Fitzherbert's  family,  and  in  the  es- 
teem of  Dr.  Johnson  ;  though  he  told  me,  she  pushed  her  piety  to  bigotry,  her 
devotion  to  enthusiasm  ;  that  she  somewhat  disqualified  herself  for  the  duties  of 
this  life,  by  her  perpetual  aspirations  after  the  next :  such  was,  however,  the  purity 
of  her  mind,  he  said,  and  such  tlie  graces  of  her  manner,  that  Lord  Lyttelton  and 
he  used  to  strive  for  her  preference  with  an  emulation  that  occasioned  hourly  dis- 
gust, and  ended  in  lasting  animosity.  You  may  see  (said  he  to  me,  when  the  Po- 
ets' Lives  were  printed,)  that  dear  Boothby  is  at  my  heart  still." 

Miss  Hill  Boothby,  who  was  the  only  daughter  of  Brook  Boothby,  Esq.  and  his 
wife,  Elizabeth  Fitzherbert  was  somewhat  older  than  Johnson.  She  was  bom 
October  27,  1708,  and  died  January  16,  1756.  Six  I-etters  addressed  to  her  by 
Johnson  in  the  year  1755,  are  printed  in  Mrs.  Piozzi's  Collection  ;  and  a  Prayer 
composed  by  him  on  her  death  may  be  found  in  his  "  Prayers  and  Meditations." 
His  afFection  for  her  induced  him  to  preserve  and  bind  up  in  a  volume  thirty  three 
of  her  Letters,  which  were  ourchised  from  the  widow  of  his  servant,  Francis  Bar- 
ber, and  published  by  R.  Ph-jlips,  in  180.5. 

But  highly  as  he  valued  this  ladv,  his  attachment  to  Miss  Molly  Aston,  (after- 
wards Mrs.  Brodie,)  appears  to  have  been  still  more  ardent.     He  burned  (says  Mrs, 


DR.    JOHNSON.  187 

no  means  join  in  the  censure  bestowed  by  Johnson  on  '78i. 
his   Lordship,   whom  he  calls  "  poor  Lyttelton,"  for  re-  ^a|^ 
turning  thanks  to  the   Critical  Reviewers,   for   having   72. 
"  kindly  commended"   his  "  Dialogues  of  the  Dead.'' 
Such  "  acknowledgements  (says  my  friend)  never  can 
be  proper,  since,  they  must   be  paid  either  for  flattery 
or  for  justice."     In  my  opinion,  the  most  upright  man, 
who  has  been  tried  on  a  false  accusation,  may,  when  he 
is  acquitted,  make  a  bow   to  his  jur}^      And  when 
those,  who  are  so  much  the  arbiters  of  literary  merit, 
as  in   a  considerable  degree  to  influence  the  publick 
opinion,    review   an    authour's   work,   placido    lumine, 
when  I  am  afraid  mankind  in  general  are  better  pleased 
with  severity,  he  may  surely  express  a  grateful  sense  of 
their  civiUty. 

Various  readings  in  the  life  of  Lyttelton. 

"  He  solaced  [himself]  his  grief  hy  writing  a  long 
poem  to  her  memory. 

"  The  production  rather  [of  a  mind  that  means  well 
than  thinks  vigorously]  as  it  seems  of  leisure  than  of 
studif^  rather  effusions  than  compositions. 

"  His  last  literary  [work]  production. 

"  [Found  the  way]  undertook  to  persuade. 

As  the  introduction  to  his  critical  examination  of 
the  genius  and  writings  of  Young,  he  did  Mr.  Herbert 
Croft,  then  a  Barrister  of  Lincoln's  Inn,  now  a  clergy- 
man, the  honour  to  adopt  a  Life  of  Young  written  by 
that  Gentleman,  who  was  the  friend  of  Dr.  Young's 

Piozzi,)  many  letters  in  the  last  week  [of  his  life,]  I  am  told,  and  those  written  by 
his  mother  drew  from  him  a  flood  of  tears,  when  the  paper  they  were  written  on 
was  all  consumed.  Mr.  Sastres  saw  him  cast  a  melancholy  look  upon  their  ashes, 
which  he  took  up  and  examined,  to  see  if  a  word  was  still  legible. — Nobody  has 
ever  mentioned  what  became  of  Miss  Aston's  letters,  though  he  once  told  me  him- 
self, they  should  be  the  last  papers  he  would  destroy,  and  added  these  lines  with  a 
"cry  faltering  voice : 

"  Then  from  his  closing  eyes  thy  form  shall  part, 

"  And  the  last  pang  shall  tear  thee  from  his  heart ; 

"  Life's  idle  business  at  one  gasp  be  o'er, 

"  The  Muse  forgot,  and  thou  belov'd  no  more." 

Additions  to  Mrs.  Piozzi's  Collection  of 
Dr.  Johnson's  Letters.    M.] 


188  THE    LIFE    OP 

1781.  son,  and  wished  to  vindicate  him  from  some  very  erro- 

j£f^^  neous  remarks   to  his  prejudice.     Mr.  (Jrot't's  perform- 

72.    ance  was  subjected  to  the  revision  of  Dr.  Johnson,  as 

appears  from  the  following  note  to  Mr.  John  Nichols  :' 

"  This   Life  of  Dr.  Young   was  written  hy  a  friend 

of  his  son.     What  is  crossed  with   black  is  expunged 

by   the  authour,   what  is  crossed  with  red  is  expunged 

by  me.     If  you   find  any  thing  more  that  can  be  well 

omitted,  I  shall  not  be  sorry  to  see  it  yet  shorter." 

It  has  always  appeared  to  me  to  have  a  considerable 
share  of  merit,  and  to  display  a  pretty  successful  imita- 
tion of  Johnson's  style.  When  1  mentioned  this  to  a 
very  eminent  literary  character,^  he  opposed  me  ve- 
hemently, exclaiming,  "  No,  no,  it  is  not  a  good  imita- 
tion of  Johnson  ;  it  has  all  his  pomp  without  his  force  ; 
it  has  all  the  nodosities  of  the  oak  without  its  strength." 
This  was  an  image  so  happy,  that  one  might  have 
thought  he  would  have  been  satisfied  with  it  ;  but  he 
was  not.  And  setting  his  mind  again  to  work,  he 
added,  with  exquisite  felicity,  "  It  has  all  the  contor- 
tions of  the  Sybil,  without  the  inspiration." 

Mr.  Croft  very  properly  guards  us  against  supposing 
that  Young  was  a  gloomy  man  ;  and  mentions,  that 
"  his  parish  was  indebted  to  the  good-humour  of  the 
authour  of  the  '  Night  Thoughts^^  for  an  Assembly  and 
a  Bowling  Green."  A  letter  from  a  noble  foreigner  is 
quoted,  in  which  he  is  said  to  have  been  "  very  pleas- 
ant in  conversation." 

Mr.  Langton,  who  frequently  visited  him,  informs 
me,  that  there  was  an  air  of  benevolence  in  his  man- 
ner, but  that  he  could  obtain  from  him  less  information 
than  he  had  hoped  to  receive  from  one  who  had  lived 
So  much  in  intercourse  with  the  brightest  men  of  what 
has  been  called  the  Augustan  age  of  England  ;  and 
that  he  shewed  a  degree  of  eager  curiosity  concerning 
the  common  occurrences  that  were  then  passing,  which 
appeared  somewhat  remarkable  in  a  man  of  such  intel- 
lectual stores,  of  such  an  advanced  age,  and  who  had 

?  Gentleman's  Magazine,  Vol.  iv.  p.  10. 
3  [The  late  Mr.  Burke.     M.] 


DR.   JOHNSON.  189 

retired   from  life  with  declared  disappointment  in  his '-78 1 


expectations.  ^tat. 

An  instance  at  once  of  his  pensive  turn  of  mind,  and  72. 
his  chet  rfulnt^ss  of  temper,  appeared  in  a  little  story 
which  he  himself  told  to  Mr.  Langton,  when  they  were 
walking  in  his  garden  :  "  Here  (said  he)  1  had  put  a 
handsome  sun-dial,  with  this  inscription,  Eheu  fugaces ! 
which  (speaking  with  a  smile)  was  sadly  verified,  for 
by  the  next  morning  my  dial  had  been  carried  ofF/'5> 

It  gives  me  much  pleasure  to  observe,  that  however 
Johnson  may  have  casually  talked,  yet  when  he  sits,  as 
*'  an  ardent  judge  zealous  to  his  trust,  giving  sentence" 
upon  the  excellent  works  of  Young,  he  allows  them 
the  high  praise  to  which  they  are  justly  entitled.  "  I  he 
Universal  Passion  (says  he)  is  indeed  a  very  great  per- 
formance,— his  distichs  have  the  weight  of  solid  senti- 
ment, and  his  points  the  sharpness  of  resistless  truth." 

But  I  was  most  anxious  concerning  Johnson's  de- 
cision upon  "  Night  Thoughts,"  which  I  esteem  as 
a  niass  of  the  grandest  and  richest  poetry  that  human 
genius  has  ever  produced  :  and  was  delighted  to  find 
this  character  of  that  work  :  "  In  his  '  Night 
Thoughts,'  he  has  exhibited  a  very  wide  display  of 
original  poetry,  variegated  with  deep  reflection  and 
striking  allusions  :  a  wilderness  of  thought,  in  which 
the  fertility  of  fancy  scatters  flowers  of  every  hue  and 
of  every  odour.  This  is  one  of  the  few  poems  in  which 
blank  verse  could  not  be  changed  for  rhyme,  but  with 
disadvantage."  And  afterwards,  "  Particular  lines  are 
not  to  be  regarded  ;  the  power  is  in  the  whole  ;  and 
in  the  whole  there  is  a  magnificence  like  that  ascribed 
to  Chinese  plantation,  the  magnificence  of  vast  extent 
and  endless  diversity." 

But  there  is  in  this  Poem  not  only  all  that  Johnson 
so  well  brings  in  view,  but  a  power  of  the  Pathetick 
beyond  almost  any  example  that  I  have  seen.     He 

The  late  Mr.  James  Ralph  told  Lord  Macartney,  that  he  passed  an  evening; 
with  Dr.  Young  at  Lord  Melcombe's  (then  Mr.  Doddington)  at  Hammersmith. 
The  Doctor  happening  to  go  out  into  the  garden,  Mr.  Doddington  observed  to  him, 
on  his  return,  that  it  was  a  dreadful  night,  as  in  truth  it  was,  there  being  a  violent 
storm  of  rain  and  wind.  '  No,  Sir,  (replied  the  Doctor)  it  is  a  very  fine  night. 
The  Lord  is  abroad.' 


19®  THE    LIFE    OF 

1781.  who  does  not  feel  his  nerves  shaken,  and  his  heart 
iEtat^  pierced  by  many  passages  in  this  extraordinary  work, 
72.  particularly  by  that  most  affecting  one,  which  describes 
the  gradual  torment  suffered  by  the  contemplation  of 
an  object  of  affectionate  attachment  visibly  and  cer- 
tainly decaying  into  dissolution,  must  be  of  a  hard  and 
obstinate  frame. 

To  all  the  other  excellencies  of '  Night  Thoughts* 
let  me  add  the  great  and  peculiar  one,  that  they  con- 
tain not  only  the  noblest  sentiments  of  virtue,  and 
contemplations  on  immortality,  but  the  Christian  Sa- 
crifice^ the  Divine  Propitiation^  with  all  its  interesting 
circumstances,  and  consolations  to  "a  wounded  spirit," 
solemnly  and  poetically  displayed  in  such  imagery  and 
language,  as  cannot  fail  to  exalt,  animate,  and  soothe 
the  truly  pious.  No  book  whatever  can  be  recom- 
mended to  young  persons,  with  better  hopes  of  season- 
ing their  minds  with  vital  religion^  than  "  Young's 
I>IiGHT  Fhouhts." 

In  the  Life  of  Swift,  it  appears  to  me  that  Johnson 
had  a  certam  degree  of  prejudice  against  that  extraor- 
dinary man,  of  which  1  have  elsewhere  had  occasion 
to  speak.  Mr.  Thomas  Sheridan  imputed  it  to  a  sup- 
posed apprehension  in  Johnson,  that  Swift  had  not 
been  sufficiently  active  in  obtaining  for  him  an  Irish 
degree  when  it  was  solicited,'  but  of  this  there  was 
not  sufficient  evidence  ;  and  let  me  not  presume  to 
charge  Johnson  with  injustice,  because  he  did  not 
think  so  highly  of  the  writings  of  this  authour,  as  I 
have  done  from  my  youth  upwards.  Yet  that  he  had 
an  unfavourable  bias  is  evident,  were  it  only  from  that 
passage  in  which  he  speaks  of  Swift's  practice  of  sav- 
ing, as,  "  first  ridiculous  and  at  last  detestable  ;"  and 
yet  after  some  examination  of  circumstances,  finds 
himself  obliged  to  own,  that  "  it  will  perhaps  appear 
that  he  only  liked  one  mode  of  expence  better  than 
another,  and  saved  merely  that  he  might  have  some- 
thing to  give." 

One  observation  which  Johnson  makes  in  Swift's 
life,  should  be  often  inculcated  :  "  It  may  be  justly 

•  See  Vol.  1.  page  108. 


DR.   JOHNSON.  191 

supposed,  that  there  was  in  his  conversation  what  ap-  i78l. 
pears  so  frequently  in  his  letters,   an  affectation  of  fa-  ^"^ 
miiiarity   with  the  great,  an  ambition  of  momentary    72. ' 
equality,  sought  and  enjoyed  by  the  neglect  of  those 
ceremonies   which  custom    has  established  as  the  bar- 
riers between  one  order  of  society  and  another.     This 
transgression  of  regularity  was  by  himself  and  his  ad- 
mirers termed  greatness  of  soul  ;  but  a  great   mind 
disdains  to  hold  any  thing  by  courtesy,  and   therefore 
never  usurps  what  a  lawful  claimant  may  take  away. 
He  that  encroaches  on  another's  dignity,  puts  himself 
in  his  power;  he  is  either  repelled  with  helpless  indig- 
nity, or  endured  by  clemency  and  condescension." 

Various  readings  in  the  Life  qfSvfiYl. 

"  Charity  may  be  persuaded  to  think  that  it  might  be 
written  by  a  man  of  a  peculiar  [opinions]  character, 
without  ill  intention. 

"  He  did  not  [disown]  demj  it. 

"  [To]  by  whose  kindness  it  is  not  unlikely  that  he 
was  [indebted  for]  advanced  to  his  benefices. 

"  [With]  Jor  this  purpose  he  had  recourse  to  Mr. 
Harley. 

"  Sharpe,  when  he  [represents]  describes  as  '  the 
harmless  tool  of  others'  hate.' 

"  Harley  was  slow  because  he  was  [irresolute]  doubt- 
ful. 

"  When  [readers  were  not  many]  we  xvere  not  yet  a 
nation  of  readers. 

"  [Every  man  who]  he  that  could  say  he  knew  him. 

"  Every  man  of  known  influence  has  so  many  [more] 
petitions  [than]  ■■j:hich  he  [can]  cannot  grant,  that  he 
must  necessarily  offend  more  than  he  [can  gratify] 
gratijies. 

"  Ecclesiastical  [preferments]  benefices. 

"  Swift  [procured]  contrived  an  interview. 

"  [As  a  writer]  In  his  works  he  has  given  very  differ- 
ent specimens. 

"  On  all  common  occasions  he  habitually  [assumes] 
affects  a  style  of  [superiority]  arrogance. 


192  THE    LIFE    OF 

1781.      "  By  the  [omission]  neglect  of  those  ceremonies. 
l£ux.      "  ^^^^  their  merits  filled  the  world  [and}  or  that 
^2,    there  was  no  [room  fur]  hope  of  more.'' 

I  have  not  confined  myself  to  the  order  of  the  "  Lives," 
in  making  my  few  remarks.  Indeed  a  different  order  is 
observed  in  the  original  publication,  and  in  the  collec- 
tion of  Johnson's  VVorks.  And  should  it  be  objected, 
that  many  of  my  various  readings  are  inconsiderable, 
those  who  make  an  objection  will  be  pleased  to  con- 
sider, that  such  small  particulars  are  intended  for  those 
who  are  nicely  critical  in  composition,  to  whom  they 
will  be  an  acceptable  selection. 

"  Spence's  Anecdotes,"  which  are  frequently  quoted 
and  referred  to  in  Johnson's  "  Lives  of  the  Poets,"  are 
in  a  manuscript  collection,  made  by  the  Reverend  Mr. 
^  Joseph  Spence,^  containing  a  number  of  particulars 
concerning  eminent  men.  To  each  anecdote  is  marked 
the  name  of  the  person  on  whose  authority  it  is  men- 
tioned. This  valuable  collection  is  the  property  of  the 
Duke  of  Newcastle,  who  upon  the  application  of  Mr 
Lucas  Pepys,  was  pleased  to  permit  it  to  be  put  into  the 
hands  of  Dr.  Johnson,  who  I  am  sorry  to  think  made 
but  an  awkward  return.  "  Great  assistance  (says  he) 
has  been  given  me  by  Mr.  Spence's  Collection,  of 
which  I  consider  the  communication  as  a  favour  wor- 
thy of  publick  acknowledgement ;"  but  he  has  not  own- 
ed to  whom  he  was  obliged  ;  so  that  the  acknowledge- 
ment is  unappropriated  to  his  Grace. 

While  the  world  in  general  was  filled  with  admira- 
tion of  Johnson's  *'  Lives  of  the  l^)ets,"  there  were 
narrow  circles  in  which  prejudice  and  resentment  were 
fostered,  and  from  which  attacks  of  different  sorts  issued 
against  him.^      By  some  violent  Whigs  he  was  arraign- 

^  [The  Rev.  Joseph  Spence,  A.  M.  Rector  of  Great  Harwood  in  Buckingham- 
shire, and  Prebendary  of  Durham,  died  at  Byfleet  in  Surrey,  August  20,  1768.  He 
was  a  fellow  of  New  College  in  Oxford,  and  held  the  office  of  Professor  of  Poetry 
in  that  University  from  1728  to  1738.     M.] 

"  From  this  disreputable  class,  I  except  an  ingenious,  though  not  satisfactory  de- 
fence of  Hammond,  which  1  did  not  see  till  lately,  by  the  favour  of  its  authour, 
my  amiaVJe  friend,  the  Reverend  Mr.  Eevill,  who  published  it  without  his  name. 
It  is  a  juvenile  performance,  but  elegantly  written,  with  classical  enthusiasm  of  sen- 
timent, and  yet  with  a  becoming  modesty,  and  great  respect  for  Dr.  Johnson. 


DR.   JOHNSON.  193 

ed  of  injustice,  to  Milton  ;  by  some  Cambridge  men  of  1781. 
depreciating  Gray  ;  and  his  expressing  with  a  dignified  ^^, 
freedom  what  he  really  thought  of  George,  Lord  Lyt-  72. 
telton,  gave  offence  to  some  of  the  friends  of  that  no- 
bleman, and  particularly  produced  a  declaration  of  war 
against  him  from  Mrs.  Montagu,  the  ingenious  Essayist 
on  Shakspeare,  between  whom  and  his  Lordship  a 
commerce  of  reciprocal  compliments  had  long  been  car- 
ried on.  In  this  war  the  smallest  powers  in  alliance 
with  him  were  of  course  led  to  engage,  at  least  on  the 
defensive,  and  thus  1  for  one,  was  excluded  from  the 
enjoyment  of  "  A  Feast  for  Reason,"  such  as  Mr.  Cum- 
berland has  described,  with  a  keen,  yet  just  and  deli- 
cate pen,  in  his  "  Observer."  These  minute  incon- 
veniencies  gave  not  the  least  disturbance  to  Johnson. 
He  nobly  said,  when  I  talked  to  him  of  the  feeble, 
though  shrill  outcry  which  had  been  raised,  "  Sir,  I 
considered  myself  as  entrusted  with  a  certain  portion 
of  truth.  I  have  given  my  opinion  sincerely  ;  let  them 
shew  where  they  think  me  wrong." 

While  my  friend  is  thus  contemplated  in  the  splen- 
dour derived  from  his  last  and  perhaps  most  admirable 
work,  1  introduce  him  with  peculiar  propriety  as  the 
correspondent  of  Warren  Hastings  !  a  man  whose 
regard  reflects  dignity  even  upon  Johnson  ;  a  man,  the 
extent  of  whose  abilities  was  equal  to  that  of  his  power ; 
and  who,  by  those  who  are  fortunate  enough  to  know 
him  in  private  life,  is  admired  for  his  literature  and  taste, 
and  beloved  for  the  candour,  moderation,  and  mild- 
ness of  his  character.  Were  1  capable  of  paying  a 
suitable  tribute  of  admiration  to  him,  I  should  cer- 
tainly not  withhold  it  at  a  moment*  when  it  is  not 
possible  that  I  should  be  suspected  of  being  an  inter- 
ested flatterer.  But  how  weak  would  be  my  voice  af- 
ter that  of  the  millions  whom  he  governed.  His  con- 
descending and  obliging  compliance  with  my  solicita- 
tion, 1  with  humble  gratitude  acknowledge  ;  and  while 
by  publishing  his  letter  to  me,  accompanying  the  valu- 
able communication,  1  do  eminent  honour  to  my  great 

.  "January,  1791. 

vpL.  III.  95 


194  THE    LIFE    OF 

1781.  friend,  I  shall  entirely  disregard  any  invidious  sugges- 
^j^^  tions,  that  as  I  in  some  degree  participate  in  the  honour, 
72.    1  have,  at  the  same  time,  the  gratification  of  my  own 
vanity  in  view. 

TO  JAMES  BOSWELL,  ESQ. 

"  SIR,  Park-lane,  Dec.  2,  1790. 

"  I  HAVE  been  fortunately  spared  the  troublesome 
suspense  of  a  long  search,  to  which,  in  performance  of 
my  promise,  I  had  devoted  this  morning,  by  lighting 
upon  the  objects  of  it  among  the  first  papers  that  1  laid 
my  hands  on  :  my  veneration  for  your  great  and  good 
friend.  Dr.  Johnson,  and  the  pride,  or  1  hope  something 
of  a  better  sentiment,  which  1  indulge  in  possessing 
such  memorials  of  his  good  will  towards  me,  having  in- 
duced me  to  bind  them  in  a  parcel  containing  other  se- 
lect papers,  and  labelled  with  the  titles  appertaining  to 
them.  They  consist  but  of  three  letters,  which  1  be- 
lieve were  all  that  1  ever  received  from  Dr.  Johnson. 
Of  these,  one,  which  was  Avritten  in  quadruplicate,  un- 
der the  different  dates  of  its  respective  dispatches,  has 
already  been  made  publick,  but  not  from  any  commu- 
nication of  mine.  This,  however,  I  have  joined  to  the 
rest  ;  and  have  now  the  pleasure  of  sending  them  to 
you  for  the  use  to  which  you  informed  me  it  was  your 
desire  to  destine  them. 

"  My  promise  was  pledged  with  the  condition,  that 
if  the  letters  were  found  to  contain  any  thing  which 
should  render  them  improper  for  the  publick  eye,  you 
would  dispense  with  the  performance  of  it.  You  will 
have  the  goodness,  i  am  sure,  to  pardon  my  recalling 
this  stipulation  to  your  recollection,  as  1  shall  be  loath 
to  appear  negligent  of  that  obligation  which  is  always 
implied  in  an  epistolary  confidence.  In  the  reservation 
of  that  right  1  have  read  them  over  with  the  most  scru- 
pulous attention,  but  have  not  seen  in  them  the  slight- 
est cause  on  that  ground  to  withhold  them  from  you. 
But,  though  not  on  that,  yet  on  another  ground  1  own 
I  feel  a  little,  yet  but  a  little,  reluctance  to  part  with 
them  :  1  mean  on  that  of  my  own  credit,  which  1  fear 


DR.    JOHNSON.  195 

will  suffer  by  the  information  conveyed  by  them,  that  I  i78i. 
was  early  in  the  possession  of  such  valuable  instructions  ^^ 
for  the  beneficial  employment  of  the  influence  of  my  72. ' 
late  station,  and  (as  it  may  seem)  have  so  little  availed 
myself  of  them.  Whether  I  could,  if  it  were  necessary, 
defend  myself  against  such  an  imputation,  it  little  con- 
cerns the  world  to  know.  1  look  only  to  the  effect 
which  these  relicks  may  produce,  considered  as  eviden- 
ces of  the  virtues  of  their  authour  :  and  believing  that 
they  will  be  found  to  display  an  uncommon  warmth  of 
private  friendship,  and  a  mind  ever  attentive  to  the  im- 
provement and  extension  of  useful  knowledge,  and  so- 
licitous for  the  interests  of  mankind,  I  can  cheerfully 
submit  to  the  little  sacrifice  of  my  own  fame,  to  contri- 
bute to  the  illustration  of  so  great  and  venerable  a  char- 
acter. They  cannot  be  better  applied,  for  that  end,  than 
by  being  entrusted  to  your  hands.  Allow  me,  with 
this  offering,  to  infer  from  it  a  proof  of  the  very  great 
esteem  with  which  I  have  the  honour  to  profess  myself, 
Sir, 

"  Your  most  obedient 

"  And  most  humble  servant, 

"  Warren  Hastings." 
"  P.  S.  At  some  future  time,  and  when  you  have 
no  further  occasion  for  these  papers,  I  shall  be  obhged 
o  you  if  you  will  return  them." 

The  last  of  the  three  letters  thus  graciously  put  into 
my  hands,  and  which  has  already  appeared  in  publick, 
belongs  to  this  year  ;  but  1  shall  previously  insert  the 
first  two  in  the  order  of  their  dates.  They  altogether 
form  a  grand  group  in  my  biographical  picture. 

"  TO  THE  HONOURABLE  WARREN  HASTINGS,  ESQ. 
"  SIR, 

"  Though  I  have  had  but  little  personal  knowl- 
edge of  you,  1  have- had  enough  to  make  me  wish  for 
more  ;  and  though  it  be  now  a  long  time  since  1  was 
honoured  by  your  visit,  I  had  too  much  pleasure  from 
it  to  forget  it.     By  those  whom  we  delight  to  remem- 


\y(j  THE    LIFE    OP 

1781 .  ber,  we  are  unwilling  to  be  forgotten  ;  and  therefore  I 

^^  cannot  omit  this  opportunity  of  reviving  myself  in  your 

72.    memory  by  a  letter  which  you  will  receive  from  the 

hands  of  my  friend   Mr.   Chambers  ;^   a  man,   whose 

purity  of  manners  and  vigour  of  mind  are  sufficient  to 

make  every  thing  welcome  that  he  brings. 

"  That  this  is  my  only  reason  for  writing,  will  be 
too  apparent  by  the  uselessness  of  my  letter  to  any 
other  purpose.  1  have  no  questions  to  ask  ;  not  that 
I  want  curiosity  after  either  the  ancient  or  present 
state  of  regions,  in  which  have  been  seen  all  the  power 
and  splendour  of  wide-extended  empire  ;  and  which, 
as  by  some  grant  of  natural  superiority,  supply  the  rest 
of  the  world  with  almost  all  that  pride  desires,  and 
luxury  enjoys.  But  my  knowledge  of  them  is  too 
scanty  to  furnish  me  with  proper  topicks  of  enquiry  ;  I 
can  only  wish  for  information  ;  and  hope,  that  a  mind 
comprehensive  like  yours  will  find  leisure,  amidst  the 
cares  of  your  important  station,  to  enquire  into  many 
subjects  of  which  the  European  world  either  thinks  not 
at  all,  or  thinks  with  deficient  intelligence  and  uncertain 
conjecture.  I  shall  hope,  that  he  who  once  intended 
to  increase  the  learning  of  his  country  by  the  intro- 
duction of  the  Persian  language,  will  examine  nicely 
the  traditions  and  histories  of  the  East  ;  that  Tie  will 
survey  the  wonders  of  its  ancient  edifices,  and  trace 
the  vestiges  of  its  ruined  cities  ;  and  that,  at  his  return, 
we  shall  know  the  arts  and  opinions  of  a  race  of  men, 
from  whom  very  little  has  been  hitherto  derived. 

"  You,  Sir,  have  no  need  of  being  told  by  me,  how 
much  may  be  added  by  your  attention  and  patronage 
to  experimental  knowledge  and  natural  history.  There 
are  arts  of  manufacture  practised  in  the  countries  in 
which  you  preside,  which  are  yet  very  imperfectly 
known  here,  either  to  artificers  or  philosophers.  Of 
the  natural  productions,  animate  and  inanimate,  we  yet 
have  so  little  intelligence,  that  our  books  are  filled,  I 
fear,  with  conjectures  about  things  which  an  Indian 
peasant  knows  by  his  senses. 

'  Afterwards  Sir  Robert  Chambers,  one  of  his  Majesty's  Judges  in  India. 


DR.    JOHNSON-.  197 

''  Many  of  those  things  my  first  wish  is  to  see  ;  my  i78i. 
second  to  know,  by  such  accounts  as  a  man  like  you  j^(^ 
will  be  able  to  give.  72. 

"  As  I  have  not  skill  to  ask  proper  questions,  I  have 
likewise  no  such  access  to  great  men  as  can  enable  me 
to  send  you  any  political  information.  Of  the  agita- 
tions of  an  unsettled  government,  and  the  struggles  of 
a  feeble  ministry,  care  is  doubtless  taken  to  give  you 
more  exact  accounts  than  1  can  obtain.  If  you  are  in- 
clined to  interest  yourself  much  in  pnbiick  transactions, 
it  is  no  misfortune  to  you  to  be  distant  from  them. 

"  That  literature  is  not  totally  forsaking  us,  and  that 
your  favourite  language  is  not  neglected,  will  appear 
from  the  book,^  which  I  should  have  pleased  myself 
more  with  sending,  if  I  could  have  presented  it  bound: 
but  time  was  wanting.  1  beg,  however,  Sir,  that  you 
will  accept  it  from  a  man  very  desirous  of  your  regard; 
and  that  if  you  think  me  able  to  gratify  you  by  an}^ 
thing  more  important  you  will  employ  me. 

"  1  am  now  going  to  take  leave,  perhaps  a  very  long 
leave,  of  my  dear  Mr.  Chambers.  That  he  is  going  to 
live  where  you  govern,  may  justly  alleviate  the  regret 
of  parting  ;  and  the  hope  of  seeing  both  him  and  you 
again,  which  I  am  not  willing  to  mingle  with  doubt, 
must  at  present,  comfort  as  it  can,  Sir, 

"  Your  most  humble  servant, 
"  March  30,  1774.  "  Sam.  Johnson.'' 

"  TO  THE  SAME. 
"  SIR, 

"  Being  informed  that  by  the  departure  of  a  ship, 
there  is  now  an  opportunity  of  writing  to  Bengal,  I  am 
unwilling  to  slip  out  of  your  memory  by  my  own  neg- 
ligence, and  therefore  take  the  liberty  of  reminding  you 
of  my  existence,  by  sending  you  a  book  which  is  not 
yet  made  publick. 

"  I  have  lately  visited  a  region  less  remote,  and  less 
illustrious  than  India,  which  afforded  some  occasions 

•  Jones's  "  Persian  Grammar." 


198  THE    LIFE    OF 

1781.  for  speculation  ;  what  has  occurred  to  me,  I  have  put 
j^^into  the  volume/  of  which  I  beg  your  acceptance. 
72.        "  Men  in   your  station  seldom  have  presents  totally 
disinterested  ;   my  book  is  received,  let  me  now  make 
my  request. 

"  There  is,  Sir,  somewhere  within  your  government, 
a  young  adventurer,  one  Chauncey  Lawrence,  whose 
father  is  one  of  my  oldest  friends.  Be  pleased  to  shew 
the  young  man  what  countenance  is  fit,  whether  he 
wants  to  be  restrained  by  your  authority,  or  encouraged 
by  your  favour.  His  father  is  now  President  of  the 
College  of  Physicians,  a  man  venerable  for  his  knowl- 
edge, and  more  venerable  for  his  virtue. 

"  1  wish  you  a  prosperous  government,  a  safe  return, 
and  a  long  enjoyment  of  plenty  and  tranquillity. 
"  1  am,  Sir, 

"  Your  most   obedient 

"  And  most  humble  servant, 
"  London,  Dec.  20,  1774.  "  Sam.  Johnson." 


"  TO  THE   SAME. 

"  SIR,  "  Jan,  9,  1781. 

"  Amidst  the  importance  and  multiphcity  of  af- 
fairs in  which  your  great  office  engages  you,  1  take  the 
liberty  of  recalling  your  attention  for  a  moment  to  lit- 
erature, and  will  not  prolong  the  interruption  by  an 
apology  which  your  character  makes  needless. 

"  Mr.  Hooje,  a  gentleman  long  known,  and  long 
esteemed  in  the  India-House,  after  having  translated 
Tasso,  has  undertaken  Ariosto.  How  well  he  is  quali- 
fied for  his  undertaking  he  has  already  shewn.  He  is 
desirous.  Sir,  of  your  favour  in  promoting  his  proposals, 
and  flatters  me  by  supposing  that  my  testimony  may 
advance  his  interest. 

"  It  is  a  new  thing  for  a  clerk  of  the  India-House  to 
translate  poets  ; — it  is  new  for  a  Governour  of  Bengal  to 
patronize  learning.     That  he  may  find  his  ingenuity 

'  "  Journey  to  the  Western  Islands  of  Scotland." 


'  DR.   JOHNSON.  199 

rewarded,  and  that  learning  may  flourish  under  your  i78i. 
protection,  is  the  wish  of,  Sir,  ^J^ 

"  Your  most  humble  servant,  72, ' 

"  Sam.  Johnson.^' 

I  wrote  to  him  in  February,  complaining  of  having 
been  troubled  by  a  recurrence  of  the  perplexing  ques- 
tion of  Liberty  and  Necessity  ; — and  mentioning  that 
I  hoped  soon  to  meet  him  again  in  London. 

"  TO  JAMES    BOSWELL,  ESQ. 
"  DEAR  SIR, 

"  I  HOPED  you  had  got  rid  of  all  this  hypocrisy 
of  misery.  What  have  you  to  do  with  Liberty  and 
Necessity  ?  Or  what  more  than  to  hold  your  tongue 
about  it  ?  Do  not  doubt  but  I  shall  be  most  heartily 
glad  to  see  you  here  again,  for  I  love  every  part  about 
you  but  your  affectation  of  distress. 

"  I  have  at  last  finished  my  Lives,  and  have  laid  up 
for  you  a  load  of  copy,  all  out  of  order,  so  that  it  will 
amuse  you  a  long  time  to  set  it  right.  Come  to  me, 
my  dear  Bozzy,  and  let  us  be  as  happy  as  we  can.  We 
will  go  again  to  the  Mitre,  and  talk  old  times  over. 
"  1  am,  dear  Sir, 

"  Yours  affectionately, 
"  March  14,  178  L  "Sam.  Johnson." 

On  Monday,  March  19,  I  arrived  in  London,  and  on 
Tuesday,  the  20th,  met  him  in  Fleet-street,  walking,  or 
rather  indeed  moving  along  ;  for  his  peculiar  march  is 
thus  described  in  a  very  just  and  picturesque  manner, 
in  a  short  Life^  of  him  published  very  soon  after  his 
death  : — "  When  he  walked  the  streets,  what  with  the 
constant  roll  of  his  head,  and  the  concomitant  motion 
of  his  body,  he  appeared  to  make  his  way  by  that  mo- 

*  Published  by  Kearsley,  with  this  well-chosen  motto  : 

'■ '    From  his  cradle 

"  He  was  a  Scholar,  and  a  ripe  and  good  one : 

"  And  to  add  greater  honours  to  his  age 

•'  Than  man  cculd  give  him,  he  died  fearing  Heaven." 

Shakspeare. 


200  THE    LIFE   OP 

1781.  tion,  independent  of  his  feet."  That  he  was  often 
^J^  much  stared  at  while  he  advanced  in  this  manner,  may 
72.  easily  be  believed  ;  but  it  was  not  safe  to  make  sport  of 
one  so  robust  as  he  was.  Mr.  Langton  saw  him  one 
day,  in  a  fit  of  absence,  by  a  sudden  start,  drive  the  load 
off  a  porter's  back,  and  walk  forward  briskly,  without 
being  conscious  of  what  he  had  done.  The  porter  was 
very  angry,  but  stood  still,  and  eyed  the  huge  figure 
with  much  earnestness,  till  he  was  satisfied  that  his 
wisest  course  was  to  be  quiet,  and  take  up  his  burthen 
again. 

Our  accidental  meeting  in  the  street  after  a  long  sep- 
aration, was  a  pleasing  surprize  to  us  both.  He  step- 
ped aside  with  me  into  Falcon-court,  and  made  kind 
enquiries  about  my  family,  and  as  we  were  in  a  hurry 
going  different  ways,  I  promised  to  call  on  him  next 
day  ;  he  said  he  was  engaged  to  go  out  in  the  morning, 
"  Early,  Sir  ?"  said  1.  Johnson.  "  Why,  Sir,  a  London 
morning  does  not  go  with  the  sun." 

I  waited  on  him  next  evening,  and  he  gave  me  a 
great  portion  of  his  original  manuscript  of  his  '  Lives  of 
the  Poets,'  which  he  had  preserved  for  me. 

1  found  on  visiting  his  friend,  Mr.  Thrale,  that  he 
was  now  very  ill,  and  had  removed,  I  suppose  by  the 
solicitation  of  Mrs.  Thrale,  to  a  house  in  Grosvenor- 
square.  I  was  sorry  to  see  him  sadly  changed  in  his 
appearance. 

He  told  me  I  might  now  have  the  pleasure  to  see 
Dr.  Johnson  drink  wine  again,  for  he  had  lately  return- 
ed to  it.  When  I  mentioned  this  to  Johnson,  he  said, 
"  I  drink  it  now  sometimes,  but  not  socially."  The 
first  evening  that  I  was  with  him  at  Thrale's,  I  observ- 
ed he  poured  a  large  quantity  of  it  into  a  glass,  and 
swallowed  it  greedily.  Every  thing  about  his  character 
and  manners  was  forcible  and  violent ;  there  never  was 
any  moderation  ;  many  a  day  did  he  fast,  many  a  year 
did  he  refrain  from  wine  ;  but  when  he  did  eat,  it  was 
voraciously  ;  when  he  did  drink  wine,  it  was  copiously. 
He  could  practise  abstinence,  but  not  temperance. 

Mrs.  Thrale  and  I  had  a  dispute,  whether  Shakspeare 
or  Milton  had  drawn  the  most  admirable  picture  of  a 


K'l 

I 


DR.   JOHNSON.  201 

man. 5  I  was  for  Shakspeare  ;  Mrs.  Thralefor  Milton  ;  iT-^J. 
and  after  a  fair  hearing,  Johnson  decided  for  my  ^'^i! 
opinion.'  72, 

1  told  him  of  one  of  Mr.  Burke's  playful  sallies  upon 
Dean  Marlay  :^  "  I  don't  like  the  Deanery  of  Ferns,  it 
sounds  so  like  a  barren  title." — "  Dr.  Heath  should 
have  it  ;"  said  I.  Johnson  laughed,  and  condescend- 
ing to  trifle  in  the  same  mode  of  conceit,  suggested  Dr. 
Moss. 

He  said,  "  Mrs.  Montagu  has  dropt  me.  Now,  Sir, 
there  are  people  whom  one  should  like  very  well  to 
drop,  but  would  not  wish  to  be  dropped  by,"  He  cer- 
tainly was  vain  of  the  society  of  ladies,  and  could  make 
himself  very  agreeable  to  them,  when  he  chose  it  ;  Sir 
Joshua  Reynolds  agreed  with  me  that  he  could.  Mr. 
Gibbon,  with  his  usual  sneer,  controverted  it,  perhaps 
in  resentment  of  Johnson's  having  talked  with  some 
disgust  of  his  ugliness,  which  one  would  \h\x\^2iphiloS' 
opher  would  not  mind.  Dean  Marlay  wittily  observed, 
"  A  lady  may  be  vain,  when  she  can  turn  a  wolf-dog  in- 
to a  lap-dog." 

The  election  for  Ayrshire,  my  own  county,  was  this 
spring  tried  upon  a  petition,  before  a  Committee  of  the 
House  of  Commons.  I  was  one  of  the  counsel  for 
the  sitting  member,  and  took  the  liberty  of  previously 

'  Shakspeare  makes  Hamlet  thus  describe  his  father  : 

"  See,  what  a  grace  was  seated  on  his  brow  : 
"  Hyperion's  curls,  the  front  of  Jove  himself  ; 
"  An  eye  like  Mars,  to  threaten  and  command  ; 
"  A  station  like  the  herald  Mercury, 
"  New-lighted  on  a  heaven-kissing  hill  ; 
"  A  combination,  and  a  form,  indeed, 
"  Where  every  God  did  seem  to  set  his  seal, 
"  To  give  the  world  assurance  of  a  man." 

Milton  thus  pourtrays  our  first  parent,  Adam  : 

"  His  fair  large  front  and  eye  subUme  declar'd 
"  Absolute  rule  ;  and  hyacinthin  locks 
"  Round  from  his  parted  forelock  manly  hung 
"  Clust'ring,  but  not  beneath  his  shoulders  broad." 

'  [It  is  strange,  that  the  picture  drawn  by  the  unlearned  Shakspeare,  should  bt 
full  of  classical  images,  and  that  by  the  learned  Milton,  void  of  them.-^  Milton's  de» 
scription  appears  to  me  more  picturesque.     K.] 

[Dr.  Richard  Marlay,  afterwards  Lord  Bishop  of  Waterford  ;  a  very  amiable, 
benevolent,  and  ingenious  man.  He  was  chosen  a  member  of  the  Literary 
Club  in  1777,  and  died  in  Dublin,  July  2,  1802,  ia  his  75th  year.     M.] 

VOL.  III.  26 


202  THE    LIFE    OF 

^781.  stating  difiereiit  points  to  Johnson,  who  never  failed  to 
iEtaT.  ^^^  them  clearly,  and  to  supply  me  with  some  good 
72.    hints.     He  dictated  to  me  the  following  note  upon  the 
registration  of  deeds  : 

"  All  laws  are  made  for  the  convenience  of  the 
community  ;  what  is  legally  done,  should  be  legally 
recorded,  that  the  state  of  things  may  be  known,  and 
that  wherever  evidence  is  requisite,  evidence  may  be 
had.  For  this  reason,  the  obligation  to  frame  and 
establish  a  legal  register  is  enforced  by  a  legal  penalty, 
which  penalty  is  the  want  of  that  perfection  and  plen- 
itude of  right  which  a  register  would  give.  Thence 
it  follows,  that  this  is  not  an  objection  merely  legal  ; 
for  the  reason  on  which  the  law  stands  being  equitable, 
makes  it  an  equitable  objection." 

"  This  (said  he)  you  must  enlarge  on,  when  speak- 
ing to  the  Committee,  f  ou  must  not  argue  there,  as 
if  you  were  arguing  in  the  schools  ;  close  reasoning 
will  not  fix  their  attention  ;  you  must  say  the  same 
thing  over  and  over  again,  in  different  words.  If  you 
say  it  but  once,  they  miss  it  in  a  moment  of  inattention. 
It  is  unjust.  Sir,  to  censure  lawyers  for  multiplymg 
words,  when  they  argue  ;  it  is  often  necessary  for  them 
to  multiply  words." 

His  notion  of  the  duty  of  a  member  of  Parliament, 
sitting  upon  an  election-committee  was  very  high  ;  and 
when  he  was  told  of  a  gentleman  upon  one  of  those 
committees,  who  read  the  new^apers  part  of  the  time, 
and  slept  the  rest,  while  the  merits  of  a  vote  were  ex- 
amined by  the  counsel  ;  and  as  an  excuse,  when  chal- 
lenged by  the  chairman  for  such  behaviour,  bluntly 
answered,  "  I  had  made  up  my  mind  upon  that  case  ;" 
— Johnson,  with  an  indignant  contempt,  said,  "  If  he 
was  such  a  rogue  as  to  make  up  his  mind  upon  a  case 
without  hearing  it,  he  should  not  have  been  such  a 
fool  as  to  tell  it." — "  1  think  (said  Mr.  Dudley  Long, 
now  North)  the  Doctor  has  pretty  plainly  made  him 
out  to  be  both  rogue  and  fool." 

Johnson's  profound  reverence  for  the  Hierarchy 
made  him  expect  from  Bishops  the   highest  degree  of 


DR.   JOHNSON.  203 

decorum  ;  he  was  offended  even  at  their  going  to  tav-  '781. 
erns  ;  "  A  bishop  (said  he)  has  nothing  to  do  at  a  ]^^ 
tipphng-house.  It  is  not  indeed  immoral  in  him  to  go  72. 
to  a  tavern  ;  neither  would  it  be  immoral  in  him  to 
whip  a  top  in  Grosvenor-square  :  but,  if  he  did,  1  hope 
the  boys  would  fall  upon  him,  and  apply  the  whip  to 
him.  There  are  gradations  in  conduct  ;  there  is  mor- 
ality,— decency, — propriety.  None  of  these  should  be 
violated  by  a  bishop.  A  bishop  should  not  go  to  a 
house  where  he  may  meet  a  young  fellow  leading  out 
a  wench."  Boswell.  "  But,  Sir,  every  tavern  does 
not  admit  women."  Johnson.  "  Depend  upon  it.  Sir, 
any  tavern  will  admit  a  well-drest  man  and  a  well-drest 
woman  ;  they  will  not  perhaps  admit  a  woman  whom 
they  see  every  night  walking  by  their  door,  in  the 
street.  But  a  well-drest  man  may  lead  in  a  well-drest 
woman  to  any  tavern  in  London.  Taverns  sell  meat 
and  drink,  and  will  sell  them  to  any  body  who  can  eat 
and  can  drink.  You  may  as  well  say,  that  a  mercer 
will  not  sell  silks  to  a  woman  of  the  town." 

He  also  disapproved  of  bishops  going  to  routs,  at 
least  of  their  staying  at  them  longer  than  their  presence 
commanded  respect.  He  mentioned  a  particular  bish- 
op.    "  Poh  !   (said  Mrs.  Thrale)  the  Bishop  of 

is  never  minded  at  a  rout."  Boswell.  "  When  a 
bishop  places  himself  in  a  situation  where  he  has  no 
distinct  character,  and  is  of  no  consequence,  he  de- 
grades the  dignity  of  his  order."  Johnson.  "  Mr. 
Boswell,  Madam,  has  said  it  as  correctly  as  it  could  be." 

Nor  was  it  only  in  the  dignitaries  of  the  Church 
that  Johnson  required  a  particular  decorum  and  deli- 
cacy of  behaviour  ;  he  justly  considered  that  the  clergy, 
as  persons  set  apart  for  the  sacred  office  of  serving  at 
the  altar,  and  impressing  the  minds  of  men  with  the 
aweful  concerns  of  a  future  state,  should  be  somewhat 
more  serious  than  the  generality  of  mankind,  and  have 
a  suitable  composure  of  manners.  A  due  sense  of  the 
dignity  of  their  profession,  independent  of  higher  mo- 
tives, will  ever  prevent  them  from  losing  their  distinc- 
tion in  an  indiscriminate  sociality  ;  and  did  such  as 
affect  this,  know  how  much  it  lessens  them  in  the  eyes 


204  THE    LIFE    OF 

1/81.  of  those  whom  they  think  to  please  by  it,  they  would 
]^t^  feel  themselves  much  mortified. 
72.  Johnson,  and  his  friend,  Beauclerk,  were  once  to- 
gether in  company  with  several  clergymen,  who  thought 
that  they  should  appear  to  advantage,  by  assuming  the 
lax  jollity  of  men  of  the  world ;  which,  as  it  ma}(  be  ob- 
served in  similar  cases,  they  carried  to  noisy  excess. 
Johnson,  who  they  expected  would  be  entertained^  sat 
grave  and  silent  for  some  time  ;  at  last,  turning  to 
Beauclerk,  he  said,  by  no  means  in  a  whisper,  "  This 
merriment  of  parsons  is  mighty  offensive." 

Even  the  dress  of  a  clergyman  should  be  in  charac- 
ter, and  nothing  can  be  more  despicable  than  conceited 
attempts  at  avoiding  the  appearance  of  the  clerical 
order  ;  attempts,  which  are  as  ineffectual  as  they  are 
pitiful.  Dr.  Porteus,  now  Bishop  of  London,  in  his 
excellent  charge  when  presiding  over  the  diocese  of 
Chester,  justly  animadverts  upon  this  subject  ;  and 
observes  of  a  reverend  fop,  that  he  "  can  be  but  half  a 
heaaP 

Addison,  in  "  The  Spectator,"  has  given  us  a  fine 
portrait  of  a  clergyman,  who  is  supposed  to  be  a  mem- 
ber of  his  Club  ;  and  Johnson  has  exhibited  a  model, 
in  the  character  of  Mr.  Mudge,^  which  has  escaped 
the  collectors  of  his  works,  but  which  he  owned  to  me, 
and  which  indeed  he  shewed  to  Sir  Joshua  Reynolds 
at  the  time  when  it  was  written.  It  bears  the  genuine 
marks  of  Johnson's  best  manner,  and  is  as  follows  : 

"  The  Reverend  Mr.  Zachariah  Mudge^  Prebendary 
of  Exeter,  and  A'icar  of  St.  Andrew's  in  Plymouth  ;  a 
man  equally  eminent  for  his  virtues  and  abilities,  and 
at  once  beloved  as  a  companion  and  reverenced  as  a 
pastor.  He  had  that  general  curiosity  to  which  no 
kind  of  knowledge  is  indifferent  or  superfluous  ;  and 
that  general  benevolence  by  which  no  order  of  men  is 
hated  or  despised. 

"  His  principles  both  of  thought  and  action  were 
great  and  comprehensive.  By  a  solicitous  examination 
of  objections,  and  judicious  comparison  of  opposite  ar- 

'  See  Vol.  I,  p.  297. 


DR.    JOHNSON.  205 

guments,  he  attained  what  enquiry  never  gives  but  to  i78i. 
industry  and  perspicuity,  a  firm  and  unshaken  settle-  ^^tau 
ment  of  conviction.      But   his  firmness  was  without   7i>. 
asperity  ;  for,  knowing  with  how  much  difficulty  truth 
was  sometimes  found,   he  did  not  wonder  that  many 
niissed  it. 

"  The  general  course  of  his  hfe  was  determined  by 
his  profession  ;  he  studied  the  sacred  volumes  in  the 
original  languages  ;  with  what  diligence  and  success, 
his  Notes  upon  the  Psalms  give  sufficient  evidence. 
He  once  endeavoured  to  add  the  knowledge  of  Arabick 
to  that  of  Hebrew  ;  but  finding  his  thoughts  too  much 
diverted  from  other  studies,  after  some  time  desisted 
from  his  purpose. 

"  His  discharge  of  parochial  duties  was  exemplary. 
How  his  Sermons  were  composed,  may  be  learned  from 
the  excellent  volume  which  he  has  given  to  the  pub- 
lick  ;  but  how  they  were  delivered,  can  be  known  only 
to  those  that  heard  them  ;  for  as  he  appeared  in  the 
pulpit,  words  will  not  easily  describe  him.  His  deliv- 
ery, though  unconstrained  was  not  negligent,  and 
though  forcible  was  not  turbulent  ;  disdaining  anxious 
nicety  of  emphasis,  and  laboured  artifice  of  action,  it 
captivated  the  hearer  by  its  natural  dignity,  it  roused  the 
sluggish,  and  fixed  the  volatile,  and  detained  the  mind 
upon  the  subject,  without  directing  it  to  the  speaker. 

"  rhe  grandeur  and  solemnity  of  the  preacher  did 
not  intrude  upon  his  general  behaviour  ;  at  the  table 
of  his  friends  he  was  a  companion  communicative  and 
attentive,  of  unaffected  manners,  of  manly  cheerfulness, 
willing  to  please,  and  easy  to  be  pleased.  His  acquaint- 
ance was  universally  solicited,  and  his  presence  ob- 
structed no  enjoyment  which  religion  did  not  forbid. 
Though  studious  he  was  popular  ;  though  argumenta- 
tive he  was  modest  ;  though  inflexible  he  was  candid  ; 
and  though  metaphysical  y*  t  orthodox."* 

On  Friday,  March  r30,  I  dined  with  him  at  Sir  Josh- 
ua Reynolds's,  with  the  Earl  of  Charlemont,  Sir  An- 

«  "  London  Chronicle,"  May  2,  1769.  This  respectable  man  is  there  mention- 
ed to  have  died  on  the  3d  of  Aj^ril,  that  year,  at  Cofflect,  tlie  seat  of  Thomas 
Veale,  Esq.  in  his  way  to  London.  • 


S06  THE    LIFE    OP 

1781.  nesley  Stewart,  Mr.  Eliot,  of  Port-Eliot,  Mr.  Burke, 
'^{^^  Dean  Marlay,  Mr.  Langton  ;  a  most  agreeable  day,  of 
72.    which  1  regret  that  every  circumstance   is  not  preserv- 
ed ;  but  it  is  unreasonable  to  require  such  a  multiplica- 
tion of  felicity. 

Mr.  Eliot,  with  whom  Dr.  Walter  Harte  had  trav- 
elled, talked  to  us  of  his  "  History  of  Gustavus  Adol- 
phus,"  which  he  said  was  a  very  good  book  in  the  Ger- 
man translation."  Johnson.  "  Harte  was  excessively 
vain.  He  put  copies  of  his  book  in  manuscript  into 
the  hands  of  Lord  Chesterfield  and  Lord  Granville,  that 
they  might  revise  it.  Now  how  absurd  was  it  to  sup- 
pose that  two  such  noblemen  would  revise  so  big  a  man- 
uscript. Poor  man  !  he  left  London  the  day  of  the 
publication  of  his  book,  that  he  might  be  out  of  the 
way  of  the  great  praise  he  was  to  receive  ;  and  he  was 
ashamed  to  return,  when  he  found  how  ill  his  book  had 
succeeded.  It  was  unlucky  in  coming  out  on  the  same 
day  with  Robertson's  '  History  of  Scotland.'  His  hus- 
bandry, however,  is  good."  Boswell.  "  So  he  was 
fitter  for  that  than  for  heroick  history  :  he  did  well, 
when  he  turned  his  sword  into  a  plough-share." 

Mr.  Eliot  mentioned  a  curious  liquor  peculiar  to  his 
country,  which  the  Cornish  fishermen  drink.  They 
call  it  Mahogany ;  and  it  is  made  of  two  parts  gin,  and 
one  part  treacle,  well  beaten  together.  I  begged  to 
have  some  of  it  made,  which  was  done  with  proper  skill 
by  Mr.  Eliot.  I  thought  it  very  good  liquor;  and  said 
it  was  a  counterpart  of  what  is  called  Atliol  Porridge 
in  the  Highlands  of  Scotland,  which  is  a  mixture  of 
whisky  and  honey.  Johnson  said,  "  that  must  be  a 
better  liquor  than  the  Cornish,  for  both  its  component 
parts  are  better."  He  also  observed,  "  Mahogamj  must 
be  a  modern  name;, for  it  is  not  long  since  the  wood 
called  mahogany  was  known  in  this  country."  1  men- 
tioned his  scale  of  liquors  : — claret  for  boys, — port  for 
men, — brandy  for  heroes.  "  Then  (said  Mr.  Burke) 
let  me  have  claret :  I  love  to  be  a  boy  ;  to  have  the 
careless  gaiety  of  boyish  days."  Johnson.  "  1  should 
drink  claret  too,  if  it  would  give  me  that  ;  but  it 
does. not;  it  neither  makes  boys  men,  nor  men  boys. 


DR.    JOHNSON.  207 

You'll  be  drowned  by  it,  before  it  has  any  eftect  upon  i78i. 

I  ventured  to  mention  a  ludicrous  paragraph  in  the  72. 
newspapers,  that  Dr.  Johnson  was  learning  to  dance  of 
Vestris.  Lord  Charlemont,  wishing  to  excite  him  to 
talk,  proposed  in  a  whisper,  that  he  should  be  asked, 
whether  it  was  true.  "  Shall  1  ask  him  ?"  said  his 
Lordship.  We  were,  by  a  great  majority,  clear  for  the 
experiment.  Upon  which  his  Lordship  very  gravely, 
and  with  a  courteous  air  said,  "  Pray,  Sir,  is  it  true  that 
you  are  taking  lessons  of  V^estris  ?"  This  was  risking  a 
good  deal,  and  required  the  boldness  of  a  General  of 
Irish  Volunteers  to  make  the  attempt.  Johnson  was 
at  first  startled,  and  in  some  heat  answered,  "  How 
can  your  Lordship  ask  so  simple  a  question  ?"  But 
immediately  recovering  himself,  whether  from  unwil- 
lingness to  be  deceived,  or  to  appear  deceived,  or 
whether  from  real  good  humour,  he  kept  up  the  joke : 
"  Nay,  but  if  anv  body  were  to  answer  the  paragraph, 
and  contradict  it,  I'd  have  a  reply,  and  would  say,  that 
he  who  contradicted  it  was  no  friend  either  to  Vestris 
or  me.  For  why  should  not  Dr.  Johnson  add  to  his 
other  powers  a  little  corporeal  agility  ?  Socrates  learnt 
to  dance  at  an  advanced  age,  and  Cato  learnt  Greek  at 
an  advanced  age.  Then  it  might  proceed  to  say,  that 
this  Johnson,  not  content  with  dancing  on  the  ground, 
might  dance  on  the  rope ;  and  they  might  introduce 
the  elephant  dancing  on  the  rope.  A  nobleman  ^  wrote 
a  play,  called  '  Love  in  a  hollow  Tree.'  He  found  out 
that  it  was  a  bad  one,  and  therefore  wished  to  buy  up 
all  the  copies  and  burn  them.  The 'Duchess  of  Marl- 
borough had  kept  one  ;  and  when  he  was  against  her  at 
an  election,  she  had  a  new  edition  of  it  printed,  and 
prefixed  to  it,  as  a  frontispiece,  an  elephant  dancing  on 
a  rope ;  to  shew,  that  his  Lordship's  writing  comedy 
was  as  awkward  as  an  elephant  dancing  on  a  rope." 

On  Sunday,  April  I,  I  dined  with  him  at  Mr.  Thrale's, 
with  Sir    Philip    Jennings    Clerk  and  Mr.    Perkins,^ 

4  William,  the  first  Viscount  Grimston. 

5  See  Vol.  II.  p.  122. 


208  THE  LIFE  OP 

1781.  who  had  the  superintendance  of  Mr.  Thrale's  brew- 
"^f.^  ery,  with  a  salary  of  five  hundred  pounds  a  year.  Sir 
72.  Philip  had  the  appearance  of  a  gentleman  of  ancient 
family,  well  advanced  in  life.  He  wore  his  own  white 
hair  in  a  bag  of  goodly  size,  a  black  velvet  coat,  with 
an  etnbroidered  waistcoat,  and  very  rich  laced  ruf- 
fles ;  which  Mrs.  Vhrale  said  were  old  fashioned,  but 
which,  for  that  reason,  I  thought  the  more  respectable, 
more  like  a  iory  ;  yet  Sir  Philip  was  then  in  Opposi- 
tion in  parliament.  "  Ah,  Sir,  (said  Johnson,)  ancient 
ruffle^  and  modern  principles  do  not  agree."  Sir  Philip 
defended  the  opposition  to  the  American  war  ably, 
and  with  temper,  and  I  joined  him.  He  said,  the  ma- 
jority of  ihe  nation  was  against  the  ministry.  Johnson. 
*'  /,  Sir,  am  against  the  ministry  ;  but  it  is  for  having 
too  little  of  that,  of  which  Oppositif)n  thinks  they  have 
too  much.  Were  1  minister,  if  any  man  wagged  his 
finger  against  me,  he  should  be  turned  out ;  for  that 
which  it  is  in  the  power  of  government  to  give  at 
pleasure  to  one  or  to  another,  should  be  given  to  the 
supporters  of  Government.  If  you  will  not  oppose  at 
the  expence  of  losing  your  place,  your  opposition  will 
not  be  honest,  you  will  feel  no  serious  grievance  ;  and 
the  present  opposition  is  only  a  contest  to  get  what 
others  have.  Sir  Robert  Walpole  acted  as  1  would  do. 
As  to  the  American  war,  the  se)ise  of  the  nation  is 
K'/M  the  ministry.  The  majority  of  those  who  can  un- 
derstand is  with  it ;  the  majority  of  those  who  can  only 
/ieat%  is  against  it ;  and  as  those  who  can  only  hear  are 
more  numerous  than  those  who  can  understand,  and 
Opposition  is  always  loudest,  a  majority  of  the  rabble 
will  be  for  Opposition." 

This  boisterous  vivacity  entertained  us :  but  the 
truth  in  my  opinion  was,  that  those  who  could  under- 
stand the  best  were  against  the  American  war,  as  almost 
every  man  now  is,  when  the  question  has  been  coolly 
considered. 

Mrs.  Thrale  gave  high  praise  to  Mr.  Dudley  Long, 
(now  North).  Johnson.  "  Nay,  my  dear  lady,  don't 
talk  so.  Mr.  Long's  character  is  very  short.  It  is 
nothing.     He  fills  a  chair.     He  is  a  man  of  genteel 


DR.   JOHNSON.  209 

appearance,  and  that  is  all.^      I  know  nobody   who  178L. 
blasts  by  praise  as  you  do  :  for  whenever  there  is  ex-  J^ 
aggerated  praise,  every  body  is  set  against  a  character.   70, ' 
Ttiey  are  provoked  to  attack  it.    Now  there  is  Pepys  ;* 
you  praised  that  man  with  such  disproportion,  that  I 
was  incited  to  lessen  him,  perhaps   more  than  he  de- 
serves.    His  blood  is  upon  your  head.     By  the  same 
principle,  your  malice  defeats  itself;  for  your  censure  is 
too  violent.     And  yet  (looking  to  her   with  a  leering 
smile)  she  is  the  first  woman  in  the  world,  could  she 
but  restrain  that  wicked  tongue  of  hers  ; — she  would  be 
the  only  woman,  could  she  but  command  that  little 
whirligig." 

Upon  the  subject  of  exaggerated  praise  I  took  the 
liberty  to  say,  that  I  thouglit  there  might  be  very  high 
praise  given  to  a  known  character  which  deserved  it, 
and  therefore  it  would  not  be  exaggerated.  Thus,  one 
might  say  of  Mr.  Edmund  Burke,  he  is  a  very  wonder- 
ful man.  Johnson.  "  No,  Sir,  you  would  not  be 
safe,  if  another  man  had  a  mind  perversely  to  contra- 
dict. He  might  answer,  '  Where  is  all  the  wonder  ? 
Burke  is,  to  be  sure,  a  man  of  uncommon  abilities, 
with  a  great  quantity  of  matter  in  his  mind,  and  a 
great  fluency  of  language  in  his  mouth.  But  we  are 
not  to  be  stunned  and  astonished  by  him.'  So  you  see, 
Sir,  even  Burke  would  suffer,  not  from  any  fault  of  his 
own,  but  from  your  folly." 

Mrs.  Thrale  mentioned  a  gentleman  who  had  acquir- 
ed a  fortune  of  four  thousand  a  year  in  trade,  but  was 
absolutely  miserable,  because  he  could  not  talk  in  com- 
pany ;  so  miserable,  that  he   was  impelled  to  lament 

'  Here  Johnson  condescended  to  play  upon  the  words  Long  and  short.  But  little 
did  he  know  rhat,  owing  to  Mr.  Long's  reserve  in  his  presense,  he  was  talking  thus 
of  a  gentleman  distinguished  amongst  his  acquaintance,  for  acuteness  of  wit ;  one  to 
whom  I  think  the  French  expression,  '  IL  petille  d'esprit^  is  particularly  suited. 
He  has  gratified  me  by  mentioning  that  he  heard  Dr.  Johnson  say,  "  Sir,  if  I  were 
to  lose  BosweJl,  it  would  be  a  limb  amputated." 

8  WiUiam  Weller"Pepys,  Esq.  one  of  the  Masters  in  the  High  Court  of  Chancery, 
and  well  known  in  polite  circles.  My  acquaintance  with  him  is  not  sufficient 
to  enable  me  to  speak  of  him  from  my  own  judgement.  But  I  know  that  both  at 
Eton  and  Oxford  he  was  the  intimate  friend  of  the  late  Sir  James  Macdonald,  the 
Marcellus  of  Scotland,  whose  extraordinary  talents,  learning,  antl  \'jrtnes,  witt  evfflr 
be  remembered  with  admiration  and  regret, 

VOL.  IIT.  57 


i^lO  THE    LIFE    OF 

1781.  his  situation  in  the  street  to  ******,  whom  he  hates, 
^^  and  who  he  knows  despises  him.  "  lam  a  most  un- 
1-1.  liappy  man  (said  he).  1  am  invited  to  conversations. 
1  go  to  conversations  ;  but,  alas  !  1  have  no  conversa- 
tion."— Johnson.  "  Man  commonly  cannot  be  suc- 
cessful in  different  ways.  This  gentleman  has  spent, 
in  getting  four  thousand  pounds  a  year,  the  time  in 
which  he  might  have  learnt  to  talk  ;  and  now  he  can- 
not talk."  Mr.  Perkins  made  a  shrewd  and  droll  re- 
mark :  "  If  he  had  got  his  four  thousand  a  year  as  a 
mountebank,  he  might  have  learnt  to  talk  at  the  same 
time  that  he  was  getting  his  fortune." 

Some  other  gentlemen  came  in.  The  conversatoin 
concerning  the  person  whose  character  Dr.  Johnson 
had  treated  so  slightingly,  as  he  did  not  know  his  merit, 
was  resumed.  Mrs.  Thrale  said,  "You  think  so  of 
him.  Sir,  because  he  is  quiet,  and  does  not  exert  him- 
self with  force.  You'll  be  saying  the  same  thing  of 
Mr.  *****  there,  who  sits  as  quiet — "  This  was  not 
well  bred  ;  and  Johnson  did  not  let  it  pass  without  cor- 
rection. "  Nay,  Madam,  what  right  have  you  to  talk 
thus  ?  Both  Mr.  *****  and  I  have  reason  to  take  it 
ill.  You  may  talk  so  of  Mr.  *****;  but  why  do  you 
make  me  do  it.  Have  1  said  any  thing  against  Mr. 
*****  \  You  have  set  him,  that  1  might  shoot  him  : 
but  I  have  not  shot  him." 

One  of  the  gentlemen  said,  he  had  seen  three  folio 
volumes  of  Dr.  Johnson's  sayings  collected  by  me.  "  I 
must  put  you  right,  Sir,  (said  .J  ;)  for  1  am  very  exact 
in  authenticity.  •  You  could  not  see  folio  volumes,  for 
I  have  none  :  you  might  have  seen  some  in  quarto  and 
octavo.  This  is  an  inattention  which  one  should 
guard  against."  Johnson.  "  Sir,  it  is  a  want  of  con- 
cern about  veracity.  He  does  not  know  that  he  saw 
anij  volumes.  If  he  had  seen  them  he  could  have  re- 
membered their  size." 

Mr.  Thrale  appeared  very  lethargick  to-day.  I  saw 
him  again  on  Monday  evening,  at  which  time  he  was 
not  thought  to  be  in  immediate  danger ;  but  early  in 
the  morning  of  Wednesday  the  4th,  he  expired.  John- 
son was  in  the  house,  and  thus  mentions  the  event :  "  I 


DR.    JOHNSON.  21i 

felt  almost  the  last  flutter  of  his  pulse,  and  looked  for  i78i. 
the  last  time   upon   the  face  that  for  fifteen  years  had  ^^ 
never  been  turned  upon  me  but  with  respect  and  be-   72.  ' 
nignity."^     Upon   that  day  there   was  a  Call  of  the 
Literary  Club  ;  but  Johnson  apologised  for  his  ab- 
sence by  the  following  note  : 

*'  Mr.  Johnson  knows  that  Sir  Joshua  Reynolds  and 
the  other  gentlemen  will  excuse  his  incompliance  with 
the  Call,  when  they  are  told  that  Mr.  Thrale  died  this 
morning.^^ 

"  Wednesday.^* 

Mr.  Thrale's  death  was  a  very  essential  loss  to  John- 
son, who,  although  he  did  not  foresee  all  that  afterwards 
happened,  was  sufficiently  convinced  that  the  comforts 
which  Mr.  Thrale's  family  afforded  him,  would  now  in 
a  great  measure  cease.  He,  however,  continued  to 
shew  a  kind  attention  to  his  widow  and  children  as  long 
as  it  was  acceptable  :  and  he  took  upon  him,  with  a  very 
earnest  concern,  the  office  of  one  of  his  executors,  the 
importance  of  which  seemed  greater  than  usual  to  him, 
from  his  circumstances  having  been  always  such,  that 
he  had  scarcely  any  share  in  the  real  business  of  life. 
His  friends  of  the  Club  were  in  hopes  that  Mr.  Thrale 
might  have  made  a  liberal  provision  for  him  for  his  life, 
which,  as  Mr.  Thrale  left  no  son,  and  a  very  large  for- 
tune, it  would  have  been  highly  to  his  honour  to  have 
done  ;  and,  considering  Dr.  Johnson^s  age,  could  not 
have  been  of  long  duration  ;  but  he  bequeathed  him 
only  two  hundred  pounds,  which  was  the  legacy  given 
to  each  of  his  executors.  1  could  not  but  be  somewhat 
diverted  by  hearing  Johnson  talk  in  a  pompous  manner 
of  his  new  office,  and  particularly  of  the  concerns  of  the 
brewery,  which  it  was  at  last  resolved  should  be  sold. 
Lord  Lucan  tells  a  very  good  story,  which,  if  not  pre- 
cisely exact,  is  certainly  characteristical :  that  when  the 

'  Prayers  and  Meditations,  p.  191. 

[Johnson's  expressions  on  tliis  occasion  remind  us  of  Isaac  Walton's  eulogy  on 

Whitgift,  in  his  Life  of  Hooker. — "  He  lived to  be  present  at  the  expiration  of 

her  [Q.  Elizabeth's]  last  breath,  and  to  behold  the  closing  of  those  eyes  that  had 
long  looked  upon  him  with  reverence  and  affection."    K.] 


21S  THE    LIFE    OP 

1781.  sale  of  Thrale's  brewery  was  going  forward,  Johnson 
iEtaT  ^PP^^red  bustling  about,  with  an  ink-horn  and  pen  in 
72.  his  buttonhole,  like  an  excise-man ;  and  on  being 
asked  what  he  really  considered  to  be  the  value  of  the 
property  which  was  to  be  disposed  of,  answered,  "  We 
are  not  here  to  sell  a  parcel  of  boilers  and  vats,  but  the 
potentiality  of  growing  rich  beyond  the  dreams  of 
avarice." 

On  Friday,  April  6,  he  carried  me  to  dine  at  a  club, 
which,  at  his  desire,  had  been  lately  formed  at  the 
Queen's  Arms,  in  St.  Paul's  Church-yard.  He  told 
Mr.  Hoole,  that  he  wished  to  have  a  Ci/i/  Club,  and 
asked  him  to  collect  one  ;  but,  said  he,  "  Don't  let  them 
be  patriots"  The  company  were  to-day  very  sensible, 
well-behaved  men.  1  have  preserved  only  two  partic- 
ulars of  his  conversation.  He  said  he  was  glad  Lord 
George  Gordon  had  escaped,  rather  than  that  a  prece- 
dent should  be  established  for  hanging  a  man  for  con- 
structive  treason ;  which,  in  consistency  with  his  true, 
manly,  constitutional  Toryism,  he  considered  would  be 
a  dangerous  engine  of  arbitrary  power.  And  upon  its 
being  mentioned  that  an  opulent  and  very  indolent 
Scotch  nobleman,  who  totally  resigned  the  management 
of  his  affairs  to  a  man  of  knowledge  and  abilities,  had 
claimed  some  merit  by  saying,  "  The  next  best  thing 
to  managing  a  man's  own  affairs  well,  is  being  sensible 
of  incapacity,  and  not  attempting  it,  but  having  full  con- 
fidence in  one  who  can  do  it  -P  Johnson.  "  Nay,  Sir, 
this  is  paltry.  There  is  a  middle  course.  Let  a  man 
give  application ;  and  depend  upon  it  he  will  soon  get 
above  a  despicable  state  of  helplessness,  and  attain  the 
power  of  acting  for  himself." 

On  Saturday,  April  7,  I  dined  with  him  at  Mr. 
Hoole's  with  Governour  Bouchier  and  Captain  Orme, 
both  of  whom  had  been  long  in  the  East-Indies  ;  and 
being  men  of  good  sense  and  observation,  were  very 
entertaining.  Johnson  defended  the  oriental  regulation 
of  different  casts  of  men,'  which  was  objected  to  as  to- 
tally destructive  of  the  hopes  of  rising  in  society  by  per- 

'  [Rajapouts,  the  iqilitaxy  cast ;  the  ^ramins,  pacifick  and  abstemious.    K.l 


DR.    JOHNSON.  213 

sonal  merit.     He  shewed  that  there  was  a  principle  in  i78i. 
it  sufficiently  plausible  by  analogy.     "  We  see  (said  he)  ^J^ 
in  metals  that  there  are  different  species  ;  and  so  like-    72.  * 
wise  in  animals,  though  one  species  may  not  differ  very 
widely  from  another,  as  in  the  species  of  dogs, — the  cur, 
the  spaniel,  the  mastiff.     The  Bramins  are  the  mastiffs 
of  mankind." 

On  Thursday,  April  12,  I  dined  with  him  at  a 
Bishop's,  where  were  Sir  Joshua  Reynolds,  Mr.  Beren- 
ger,  and  some  more  company.  He  had  dined  the  day 
before  at  another  Bishop's.  I  have  unfortunately  re- 
corded none  of  his  conversation  at  the  Bishop's  where 
we  dined  together :  but  I  have  preserved  his  ingenious 
defence  of  his  dining  twice  abroad  in  Passion-week  ;  a 
laxity,  in  which  I  am  convinced  he  would  not  have  in- 
dulged himself  at  the  time  when  he  wrote  his  solemn 
paper  in  "  The  Rambler,"  upon  that  aweful  season.  It 
appeared  to  me,  that  by  being  much  more  in  company, 
and  enjoying  more  luxurious  living,  he  had  contracted 
a  keener  relish  for  pleasure,  and  was  consequently  less 
rigorous  in  his  religious  rites.  This  he  would  not  ac- 
knowledge ;  but  he  reasoned  with  admirable  sophistry, 
as  follows  :  "  Why,  Sir,  a  Bishop's  calling  company 
together  in  this  week,  is,  to  use  the  vulgar  phrase,  not 
the  thing.  But  you  must  consider  laxity  is  a  bad  thing  ; 
but  preciseness  is  also  a  bad  thing  ;  and  your  general 
character  may  be  more  hurt  by  preciseness  than  by  din- 
ing with  a  Bishop  in  Passion-week.  There  might  be  a 
handle  for  reflection.  It  might  be  said,  '  He  refuses 
to  dine  with  a  Bishop  in  Passion-week,  but  was  three 
Sundays  absent  from  church."  Boswell.  "  Very  true, 
Sir.  But  suppose  a  man  to  be  uniformly  of  good  con- 
duct, would  it  not  be  better  that  he  should  refuse  to 
dine  with  a  Bishop  in  this  week,  and  so  not  encourage 
a  bad  practice  by  his  example  ?"  Johnson.  "  Wh}', 
Sir,  you  are  to  consider  whether  you  might  not  do 
more  harm  by  lessening  the  influence  of  a  Bishop's 
character  by  your  disapprobation  in  refusing  him,  than 
b^  going  to  him." 


314  THE    LIFE    OP 

1781. 

iEtat.  "  TO  MRS.  LUCY  PORTER,   IN  LICHFIELD. 

72.  * 

DEAR  MADAM, 

"  Life  is  full  of  troubles.  I  have  just  lost  my 
dear  friend  Thrale.  1  hope  he  is  happy  ;  but  I  have 
had  a  great  loss.  I  am  otherwise  pretty  well.  I  re- 
quire some  care  of  myself,  but  that  care  is  not  ineffect- 
ual ;  and  when  1  am  out  of  order,  1  think  it  often  my 
own  fault. 

"  The  spring  is  now  making  quick  advances.  As  it 
is  the  season  in  which  the  whole  world  is  enlivened 
and  invigorated,  I  hope  that  both  you  and  1  shall  par- 
take of  its  benefits.  M}'  desire  is  to  see  Lichfield  ; 
but  being  left  executor  to  my  friend,  1  know  not 
whether  I  can  be  spared  ;  but  1  will  try,  for  it  is  now 
long  since  we  saw  one  another,  and  how  little  we  can 
promise  ourselves  many  more  interviews,  we  are  taught 
by  hourly  examples  of  mortality.  Let  us  try  to  live  so 
as  that  mortality  may  not  be  an  evil.  Write  to  me 
soon,  my  dearest  ;  your  letters  will  give  me  great 
pleasure. 

"  I  am  sorry  that  Mr.  Porter  has  not  had  his  box  ;  but 
by  sending  it  to  Mr.  Mathias,  who  very  readily  under- 
took its  conveyance,  1  did  the  best  1  could,  and  per- 
haps before  now  he  has  it. 

*'  Be  so  kind  as  to  make  my  compliments  to  my 
friends  ;  I  have  a  great  value  for  their  kindness,  and 
hope  to  enjoy  it  before  summer  is  past.  Do  write  to 
me.     I  am,  dearest  love, 

"  Your  most  humble  servant, 
*'  London^  April  12,  1781.  "  Sam.  Johnson." 

On  Friday,  April  13,  being  Good-Friday,  I  went  to 
St.  Clement's  church  with  him  as  usual.  There  1  saw 
again  his  old  fellow-collegian,  Edwards,  to  whom  1  said, 
"  1  think,  Sir,  Dr.  Johnson  and  you  meet  only  at 
Church." — "  Sir,  (said  he,)  it  is  the  best  place  we  can 
meet  in,  except  Heaven,  and  I  hope  we  shall  meet 
there  too."  Dr.  Johnson  told  me,  that  there  was  very 
little  communication  between   Edwards  and  him,  after 


THE    LIFE    OF  21^ 

their  unexpected  renewal  of  acquaintance.    "But  (said  i78i. 
he,  smiling)  he  met  me  once,  and  said,  '  I  am  told  you  J^ 
have  written   a   very  pretty  book  called  The  Rambler.^   72.  * 
I  was  unwilling  that  he  should  leave  the  world  in  total 
darkness,  and  sent  him  a  set." 

Mr.  Berenger*  visited  him  to-day,  and  was  very 
pleasing.  We  talked  of  an  evening  society  for  conver- 
sation at  a  house  in  town,  of  which  we  were  all  mem- 
bers, but  of  which  Johnson  said,  "  It  will  never  do, 
Sir.  There  is  nothing  served  about  there,  neither  tea, 
nor  coifee,  nor  lemonade,  nor  any  thing  whatever ;  and 
depend  upon  it,  Sir,  a  man  does  not  love  to  go  to  a 
place  from  whence  he  comes  out  exactly  as  he  went 
in."  I  endeavoured  for  argument's  sake,  to  maintain 
that  men  of  learning  and  talents  might  have  very  good 
intellectual  society,  without  the  aid  of  any  little  grati- 
fications of  the  senses.  Berenger  joined  with  Johnson, 
and  said,  that  without  these  any  meeting  would  be  dull 
and  insipid.  He  would  therefore  have  all  the  slight 
refreshments  ;  nay,  it  would  not  be  amiss  to  have  some 
cold  meat,  and  a  bottle  of  wine  upon  a  side-board. 
"  Sir,  (said  Johnson  to  me,  with  an  air  of  triumph,)  Mr. 
Berenger  knows  the  world.  Every  body  loves  to  have 
good  things  furnished  to  them  without  any  trouble.  I 
told  Mrs.  Thrale  once,  that  as  she  did  not  choose  to 
have  card-tables,  she  should  have  a  profusion  of  the 
best  sweetmeats,  and  she  would  be  sure  to  have  com- 
pany enough  come  to  her."  1  agreed  with  my  illustri- 
ous friend  upon  this  subject  ;  for  it  has  pleased  God 
to  make  man  a  composite  animal,  and  where  there  is 
nothing  to  refresh  the  body,  the  mind  will  languish. 

On  Sunday,  April  15,  being  Easter-day,  after  solemn 
worship  in  St.  Paul's  church,  I  found  him  alone  ;  Dr. 
Scott,  of  the  Commons,  came  in.  He  talked  of  its 
having  been  said,  that  Addison  wrote  some  of  his  best 
papers  in  "  The  Spectator,"  when  warm  with  wine. 
Dr.  Johnson  did  not  seem  willing  to  admit  this.  Dr. 
Scott,  as  a  confirmation  of  it,  related,  that  Blackstone, 

^  [Richard  Berenger,  Esq.  many  years  Gentleman  of  the  Horse  to  his  present 
Majesty,  and  authour  of  «  The  History  and  art  of  Horsemanship,"  In  two  volumes, 
4to.  1771.     M.l 


216  DR.   JOHNSON. 

1781.  a  sober  man,  composed  his  "  Commentaries"  with  a 
^^^  bottle  of  port  before  him  ;  and  found  his  mind  invigor- 
72.  ated  and  supported  in  the  fatigue  of  his  great  Work, 
by  a  temperate  use  of  it. 

I  told  him,  that  in  a  company  where  I  had  lately 
been,  a  desire  was  expressed  to  know  his  authority  for 
the  shocking  story  of  Addison's  sending  an  execution 
into  Steele's  house.-  "Sir,  (said  he,)  it  is  generally 
known  ;  it  is  known  to  all  who  are  acquainted  with 
the  literary  history  of  that  period  :  it  is  as  well  known, 
as  that  he  wrote  "  Cato."  Mr.  Thomas  Sheridan  once 
defended  Addison  to  me,  by  alledging  that  he  did  it  in 
order  to  cover  Steele's  goods  from  other  creditors,  who 
were  going  to  seize  them. 

We  talked  of  the  difference  between  the  mode  of 
education  at  Oxford,  and  that  in  those  Colleges  where 
instruction  is  chiefly  conveyed  by  lectures.  Johnson. 
"  Lectures  were  once  useful  ;  but  now,  when  all  can 
read,  and  books  are  so  numerous,  lectures  are  unneces- 
sary. If  your  attention  fails,  and  you  miss  a  part  of 
the  lecture,  it  is  lost  ;  you  cannot  go  back  as  you  do 
upon  a  book."  Dr.  Scott  agreed  with  him.  "  But  yet 
(said  1)  Dr.  Scott,  you  yourself  gave  lectures  at  Ox- 
ford." He  smiled.  "  You  laughed  (then  said  1)  at 
those  who  came  to  you." 

Dr.  Scott  left  us,  and  soon  afterwards  we  went  to 
dinner.  Our  company  consisted  of  Mrs.  Williams, 
Mrs.  Desmoulins,  Mr.  Levet,  Mr.  Allen,  the  printer, 
[Mr.  Macbean,]  and  Mrs.  Hall,  sister  of  the  Reverend 
Mr.  John  Wesley,  and  resembling  him,  as  I  thought, 
both  in  figure  and  manner.  Johnson  produced  now, 
for  the  first  time,  some  handsome  silver  salvers,  which 
he  told  me  he  had  bought  fourteen  years  ago  ;  so  it 
was  a  great  day.  1  was  not  a  little  amused  by  observ- 
ing Allen  perpetually  struggling  to  talk  in  the  manner 
of  Johnson,  like  the  little  frog  in  the  fable  blowing 
himself  up  to  resemble  the  stately  ox. 

1  mentioned  a  kind  of  religious  Kobinhood  Society, 
which  met  every  Sunday  evening  at  Coachmakers'- 

-  See  this  explained,  p.  181,  1 82,  of  this  volume. 


DR.   JOHNSON.  21/ 

ball,  for  free  debate  ;  and  that  the  subject  for  this  night  '78i. 
was,  the  text  which  relates,  with  other  miracles  which  ^taT 
happened  at  our  Saviour's  death,  "  And  the  graves  72. 
were  opened,  and  many  bodies  of  the  saints  which 
slept  arose,  and  came  out  of  the  graves  after  his  resur- 
rection, and  went  into  the  holy  city,  and  appeared  unto 
many."  Mrs.  Hall  said  it  was  a  very  curious  subject, 
and  she  should  like  to  hear  it  discussed.  Johnson. 
(somewhat  warmly)  "  One  would  not  go  to  such  a 
place  to  hear  it, — one  would  not  be  seen  in  such  a 
place — to  give  countenance  to  such  a  meeting."  1, 
however,  resolved  that  1  would  go.  "  But,  hir,  (said 
she  to  Johnson,)  I  should  like  to  hear  ijou  discuss  it." 
He  seemed  reluctant  to  engage  in  it.  She  talked  of 
the  resurrection  of  the  human  race  in  general,  and 
maintained  that  we  shall  be  raised  with  the  same  bodies. 
Johnson.  "  Nay,  Madam,  we  see  that  it  is  not  to  be 
the  same  body  ;  for  the  Scripture  uses  the  illustration 
of  grain  sown,  and  we  know  that  the  grain  which 
grows  is  not  the  same  with  what  is  sown.  You  cannot 
suppose  that  we  shall  rise  with  a  diseased  body  ;  it  is 
enough  if  there  be  such  a  sameness  as  to  distinguish 
identity  of  person."  She  seemed  desirous  of  knowing 
more,  but  he  left  the  question  in  obscurity. 

Of  apparitions,  5  he  observed,  "  A  total  disbelief  of 
them  is  adverse  to  the  opinion  of  the  existence  of  the 
soul  between  death  and  the  last  day  ;  the  question 
simply  is,  whether  departed  spirits  ever  have  the  power 
of  making  themselves  perceptible  to  us  :  a  man  who 
thinks  he  has  seen  an  apparition,  can  only  be  convinc- 
ed himself  ;  his  authority  will  not  convince  another  ; 
and  his  conviction,  if  rational,   must   be  founded  on 

\[^.s  this  subject  frequently  recurs  in  these  volumes,  the  reader  may  be  led  erro- 
Heo^sly  to  suppose  that  Dr.  Johnson  was  so  fond  of  such  discussions,  as  frequently 
to  introduce  them.  But  the  truth  is,  that  the  authour  himself  delighted  in  talking 
concerning  ghosts,  and  what  he  has  frequently  denominated  the  mysUrious  ;  and 
therefore  took  every  opportunity  of  leading  Johnson  to  converse  on  such  sub- 
jects.    M.] 

[The  authour  of  this  work  was  most  undoubtedly  fond  of  the' mysterious,  and  per- 
haps upon  some  occasions  may  have  directed  the  conversation  to  those  topicks, 
■vv'hen  they  would  not  soontaneously  have  >u3_ifes..ed  themseives  to  Johnson's  mind  ; 
but  that  le  also  had  a  love  for  speculations  of  that  nature,  may  be  gathered  from 
his  writings  throughout.     J.  B. — C] 

VOL.    m.  2S 


218  THE    LIFE    OF 

1781.  being  told  something  which  cannot  be  known  but  by 

jgj^  supernatural  means.'' 

72.  He  mentioned  a  thing  as  not  unfrequent,  of  which  I 
had  never  heard  before, — being  called^  that  is,  hearing 
one's  name  pronounced  by  the  voice  of  a  known  person 
at  a  great  distance,  far  beyond  the  possibihty  of  being 
reached  by  any  sound  uttered  by  human  organs.  "  An 
acquaintance,  on  whose  veracity  1  can  depend,  told 
ine,  that  walking  home  one  evening  to  Kilmarnock,  he 
heard  himself  called  from  a  wood,  by  the  voice  of  a 
brother  who  had  gone  to  America  ;  and  the  next 
packet  brought  accounts  of  that  brother's  death." 
Macbean  asserted  that  this  inexplicable  calling  was  a 
thing  very  well  known.  Dr.  Johnson  said,  that  one 
day  at  Oxford,  as  he  was  turning  the  key  of  his  cham- 
ber, he  heard  his  mother  distinctly  call — S'«/w.  She 
was  then  at  Lichfield  ;  but  nothing  ensued.  This  phe- 
nomenon is,  1  think,  as  wonderful  as  any  other  myste- 
rious fact,  which  many  people  are  very  slow  to  believe. 
or  rather,  indeed,  reject  with  aq  obstinate  contempt. 

Some  time  after  this,  upon  his  making  a  remark 
which  escaped  my  attention,  Mrs.  Williams  and  Mrs. 
Hall  were  both  together  striving  to  answer  him.  He 
grew  angry,  and  called  out  loudly,  "  Nay,  when  you 
both  speak  at  once,  it  is  intolerable."  But  checking 
himself,  and  softening,  he  said,  "  This  one  may  say, 
though  you  are  ladies."  Then  he  brightened  into  gay 
humour,  and  addressed  them  in  the  words  of  one  of  the 
songs  in  "  The  Beggar's  Opera." 

"  But  two  at  a  time  there's  no  mortal  can  bear." 

"  What,  Sir,  (said  I,)  are  you  going  to  turn  Captain 
Macheath  ?"  There  was  something  as  pleasantly  ludi- 
crous in  this  scene  as  can  be  imagined.  The  contrast 
between  Macheath,  Polly,  and  Lucy — and  Dr.  Samuel 
Johnson,  blind,  peevish  Mrs.  Williams,  and  lean,  lank, 
preaching  Mrs.  Hall,  was  exquisite. 

I  stole  away  to  Coachmaker's-hall,  and  heard  the 
difficult  text  of  which  we  had  talked,  discussed  with 
great  decency,  and  some  intelligence,  by  several  sj)eak- 
ers.     There  was  a  difference  of  opinion  as  to  the  ap- 


DR.   JOHNSON.  919 

pearance  of  ghosts  in  modern  times,  though  the  argu-  ^7f^i. 
ments  for  it,  supported  by  Mr.   Addison's  authority,  ^^ 
preponderated.     The  immediate  subject  of  debate  was  70. 
embarrassed  by  the  bodies  of  the   saints   having  been 
said  to  rise,  and  by  the  question  what  became  of  them 
afterwards  : — did  they  return  again  to  their  graves?  or 
were  they  translated  to  heaven  ?  Only  one  evangelist 
mentions  the  fact,*  and   the  commentators   whom  I 
have  looked  at  do  not  make  the  passage  clear.     There 
is,  however,  no  occasion  for  our  understanding  it  far- 
ther, than  to  know  that  it  was  one  of  the  extraordinary 
manifestations  of  divine  power,  which  accompanied  the 
most  important  event  that  ever  happened. 

On  Friday,  April  20,  1  spent  with  him  one  of  the 
happiest  days  that  I  remember  to  have  enjoyed  in  the 
whole  course  of  my  life.  Mrs.  Garrick,  whose  grief 
for  the  loss  of  her  husband  was,  I  beheve,  as  sincere 
as  wounded  affection  and  admiration  could  produce, 
had  this  day,  for  the  first  time  since  his  death,  a  select 
party  of  his  friends  to  dine  with  her.  The  company 
was.  Miss  Hannah  More,  who  lived  with  her,  and 
whom  she  called  her  chaplain  ;  Mrs.  Boscawen,'  Mrs. 
Elizabeth  Carter,  Sir  Joshua  Reynolds,  Dr.  Burney, 
Dr.  Johnson,  and  myself.  We  found  ourselves  very 
elegantly  entertained  at  her  house  in  the  Adelphi, 
where  I  have  passed  many  a  pleasing  hour  with  him 
"  who  gladdened  life."  She  looked  well,  talked  of  her 
husband  with  complacency,  and  while  she  cast  her 
eyes  on  his  portrait,  which  hung  over  the  chimney- 
piece,  said,  that  '*  death  was  now  the  most  agreeable 
object  to  her.''  The  very  semblance  of  David  Garrick 
was  cheering.  Mr.  Beauclerk,  with  happy  propriety, 
inscribed  under  that  fine  portrait  of  him,  which  by 
Lady  Diana's  kindness  is  now  the  property  of  my  friend 
Mr.  Langton,  the  following  passage  from  his  beloved 
Shakspeare  : 

A  merrier  man. 


"  Within  the  limit  of  becoming  mirth, 

'  St.  Matthew,  chap,  xxvii.  v.  52, 53. 
•  See  p.  45  of  this  volume. 


220  THE    LIFE    OF 

.*Z^'      "  ^  "^^'^r  spent  an  hour's  talk  withal. 
"  His  eye  begets  occasion  for  his  wit  ; 
"  For  every  object  that  the  one  doth  catch, 
"  The  other  turns  to  a  mirth -moving  jest  ; 
*'  Which  his  fiiir  tongue  (Conceit's   expositor) 
"  Delivers  in  such  apt  and  gracious  words, 
"  That  aged  ears  play  truant  at  his  tales, 
"  And  younger  hearings  are  quite  ravished  ; 
"  So  sweet  and  voluble  is  his  discourse." 

We  were  all  in  fine  spirits  ;  and  I  whispered  to  Mrs. 
Boscawen,  "  1  believe  this  is  as  much  as  can  be  made 
of  life."  In  addition  to  a  splendid  entertainment,  we 
were  regaled  with  Lichfield  ale,  which  had  a  peculiar 
appropriate  value.  Sir  Joshua,  and  Dr.  Burney,  and  I, 
drank  cordially  of  it  to  Dr.  Johnson's  health  ;  and 
though  he  would  not  join  us,  he  as  cordially  answered, 
"  Gentlemen,  1  wish  you  all  as  well  as  you  do  me." 

The  general  effect  of  this  day  dwells  upon  my  mind 
in  fond  remembrance  ;  but  1  do  not  find  much  con- 
versation recorded.  What  1  have  preserved  shall  be 
faithfully  given. 

One  of  the  company  mentioned  Mr.  Thomas  Hollrs, 
the  strenuous  Whig,  who  used  to  send  over  Europe 
presents  of  democratical  books,  with  their  boards 
stamped  with  daggers  and  caps  of  liberty.  Mrs.  Car- 
ter said,  "  He  was  a  bad  man  :  he  used  to  talk  un- 
charitably." Johnson.  "  Poh  !  poh  !  Madam  ;  who 
is  the  worse  for  being  talked  of  uncharitably  ?  Besides, 
he  was  a  dull  poor  creature  as  ever  lived  :  and  I  believe 
he  would  not  have  done  harm  to  a  man  whom  he  knew 
to  be  of  very  opposite  principles  to  his  own.  1  remem- 
ber once  at  the  Society  of  Arts,  when  an  advertisement 
was  to  be  drawn  up,  he  pointed  me  out  as  the  man 
who  could  do  it  best.  This,  you  will  observe,  was 
kindness  to  me.    1  however  slipt  away  and  escaped  it." 

Mrs.  Carter  having  said  of  the  same  person,  "  1  doubt 
he  was  an  Atheist."  Johnson.  "1  don't  know  that. 
He  might  perhaps  have  become  one,  if  he  had  had  time 
to  ripen,  (smiling.)  He  might  have  exuberated  mio^.ii 
Atheist." 


DR.    JOHNSON.  221 

Sir  Joshua  Reynolds  praised  "  Mudge's^  Sermons.^^  i78i. 
Johnson.  "  Mudge's  Sermons  are  good,  but  not  prac-  ^^ 
tical.     He  grasps   more  sense  than    he  can   hold  ;  he    72. 
takes  more  corn  than  he  can  make  into  meal  ;  he  opens 
a  wide  prospect,  but  it  is  so  distant,  it  is  indistinct.     I 
love  '  Blair's  Sermons.'     Though   the  dog  is  a  Scotch- 
man, and  a  Presbyterian,  and  every  thing  he  should  not 
be,    1  was  the  first  to  praise  them.     Such  was  my  can- 
dour." (smiling.)     Mrs.  Boscawen.     "  Such  his  great 
merit,  to  get  the  better  of  all  your  prejudices."    John- 
son. "  Why,  Madam,  let  us, compound  the  matter;  let 
us  ascribe  it  to  my  candour,  and  his  merit." 

In  the  evening  we  had  a  large  company  in  the  draw- 
ing-room ;  several  ladies,  the  Bishop  of  Killaloe,  Dr. 
Percy,  Mr.  Chamberlayne  of  the  Treasury,  &c.  &c. 
Somebody  said,  the  life  of  a  mere  literary  man  could 
not  be  very  entertaining.  Johnson.  "  But  it  certainly 
may.  This  is  a  remark  which  has  betn  made,  and  re- 
peated, without  justice  ;  why  should  the  life  of  a  lite- 
rary man  be  less  entertaining  than  the  life  of  any  other 
man  !  Are  there  not  as  interesting  varieties  in  such  a 
life  ]  as  a  literarij  life  it  may  be  very  entertaining." 
BoswELL.  "  But  it  must  be  better  surely,  when  it  is  di- 
versified with  a  little  active  variety — such  as  his  having 
gone  to  Jamaica  ; — or — his  having  gone  to  the  He- 
brides."    Johnson  was  not  displeased  at  this. 

Talking  of  a  very  respectable  authour,  he  told  us  a 
curious  circumstance  in  his  life,  which  was,  that  he  had 
married  a  printer's  devil.  Reynolds.  .  "A  printer's 
devil,  Sir  !  Why,  I  thought  a  printer's  devil  was  a  crea- 
ture with  a  black  face  and  in  rags."  Johnson.  "  Yes, 
Sir.  But  I  suppose  he  had  her  face  washed,  and  put 
clean  clothes  on  her.  (Then  looking  very  serious,  and 
very  earnest.)  And  she  did  not  disgrace  him; — the 
woman  had  a  bottom  of  good  sense."  The  word  bottom 
thus  introduced,  was  so  ludicrous  when  contrasted  with 
his  gravity,  that  most  of  us  could  not  forbear  tittering 
and  laughing  ;  though  I  recollect  that  the  Bishop  of 
Killaloe  kept  his  countenance  with  perfect  steadiness, 

'■'  See  page  204  of  this  Volume. 


222  THE    LIFE    OP 

1781.  while  Miss  Hannah  More  slyly  hid  her  face  behind  u 
^j^  lady's  back  who  sat  on  the  same  settee  with  her.  His 
72.  pride  could  not  bear  that  any  expression  of  his  should 
excite  ridicule,  when  he  did  not  intend  it ;  he  there- 
fore resolved  to  assume  and  exercise  despotick  power, 
,  glanced  sternly  around,  and  called  out  in  a  strong  tone, 
"  Where's  the  merriment  ?"  Then  collecting  himself, 
and  looking  aweful,  to  make  us  feel  how  he  could  im- 
pose restraint,  and  as  it  were  searching  his  mind  for  a 
still  more  ludicrous  word,  he  slowly  pronounced,  "  I 
say  the  xvoman  \\ ^%  fmidamentallij  sensible  ;  as  if  he  had 
said,  hear  this  now,  and  laugh  if  you  dare.  We  all  sat 
composed  as  at  a  funeral. 

He  and  1  walked  away  together;  we  stopped  a  little 
whileby  the  rails  of  the  Adelphi,  looking  on  the  Thames, 
and  I  said  to  him  with  some  emotion,  that  I  was  now 
thinking  of  two  friends  we  had  lost,  who  once  lived  in 
the  buildings  behind  us,  Beauclerk  and  Garrick.  "Ay, 
Sir,  (said  he,  tenderly)  and  two  such  friends  as  cannot 
be  supplied." 

For  some  time  after  this  day  I  did  not  see  him  very 
often,  and  of  the  conversation  which  I  did  enjoy,  I  am 
sorry  to  find  I  have  preserved  but  little.  I  was  at  this 
time  engaged  in  a  variety  of  other  matters,  which  re- 
quired exertion  and  assiduity,  and  necessarily  occupied 
almost  all  my  time. 

One  day  having  spoken  very  freely  of  those  who  were 
then  in  power,  he  said  to  me,  "  Between  ourselves, 
Sir,  1  do  not  like  to  give  opposition  the  satisfaction  of 
knowing  how  much  1  disapprove  of  the  ministry." 
And  when  I  mentioned  that  Mr.  Burke  had  boasted 
how  quiet  the  nation  was  in  George  the  Second's  reign, 
when  Whigs  were  in  power,  compared  with  the  pres- 
ent reign,  when  Tories  governed  ; — "  Why,  Sir,  (said 
he)  you  are  to  consider  that  Tories  having  more  rever- 
ence for  government,  will  not  oppose  with  the  same  vi- 
olence as  Whigs,  who  being  unrestrained  by  that  prin- 
ciple, will  oppose  by  any  means." 

This  month  he  lost  not  only  Mr.  Thrale,  but  another 
friend,  Mr.  William  Strahan,  Junior,  printer,  the  eldest 
son  of  his  old  and  constant  friend,  Printer  to  his  Majesty. 


DR.   JOHNSON.  223 

1781. 


"TO  MRS.  STRAHAN.  ^ 

"  DEAR  MADAM,  ^^' 

"  The  grief  which  I  feel  for  the  loss  of  a  very 
kind  friend,  is  sufficient  to  make  me  know  how  much 
you  suffer  by  the  death  of  an  amiable  son  :  a  man,  of 
whom  1  think  it  may  be  truly  said,  that  no  one  knew 
him  who  does  not  lament  him.  1  look  upon  myself  as 
having  a  friend,  another  friend,  taken  from  me. 

"  Comfort,  dear  Madam,  1  would  give  you,  if  I 
could  ;  but  I  know  how  little  the  forms  of  consolation 
can  avail.  Let  me,  however,  counsel  you  not  to  waste 
your  health  in  unprofitable  sorrow,  but  go  to  Bath, 
and  endeavour  to  prolong  your  own  life ;  but  when  we 
have  all  done  all  that  we  can,  one  friend  must  in  time 
lose  the  other. 

"  I  am,  dear  Madam, 

"  Your  most  humble  servant, 
"  April  23,  1781.  "  Sam.  Johnson." 

On  Tuesday,  iSIay  8,  I  had  the  pleasure  of  again 
dining  with  him  and  Mr.  Wilkes,  at  Mr.  Dilly's.  No 
negociation  was  now  required  to  bring  them  together; 
for  Johnson  was  so  well  satisfied  with  the  former  inter- 
view, that  he  was  very  glad  to  meet  Wilkes  again,  who 
was  this  day  seated  between  Dr.  Beattie  and  Dr.  John- 
son ;  (between  Truth  and  Reasoji,  as  General  Paoli 
said,  when  1  told  him  of  it.)  Wilkes.  "  I  have  been 
thinking,  Dr.  Johnson,  that  there  should  be  a  bill 
brought  into  parlianient  that  the  controverted  elections 
for  Scotland  should  be  tried  in  that  country,  at  their 
own  Abbey  of  Holy-Rood  House,  and  not  here  ;  for 
the  consequence  of  trying  them  here  is,  that  we  have 
an  inundation  of  Scotchmen,  who  come  up  and  never 
go  back  again.  Now  here  is  Bos  well,  who  is  come 
upon  the  election  for  his  own  count}^  which  will  not 
last  a  fortnight."  Johnson.  "  Nay,  Sir,  I  see  no  rea- 
son why  they  should  be  tried  at  all  ;  for,  you  know, 
one  Scotchman  is  as  good  as  another."  Wilkes. 
"  Pray,  Bos  well,   how  much  may  be  got  in  a  year  by 


224<  THE    LIFE    OF 

1781.  an  Advocate  at  the  Scotch  bar  ?"  Bos  well.  "  I  be- 
^■^  lieve,  two  thousand  pounds."  Wilkes.  "  How  can 
72.  it  be  possible  to  spend  that  money  in  Scotland  ?" 
Johnson.  "  Why,  !5ir,  the  money  may  be  spent  in 
England  ;  but  there  is  a  harder  question.  If  one  man 
in  Scotland  gets  possession  of  two  thousand  pounds, 
what  remains  for  all  the  rest  of  the  nation  V  VVilkes. 
"  You  know,  in  the  last  war,  the  immense  booty  which 
Thurot  carried  off  by  the  complete  plunder  of  seven 
Scotch  isles  ;  he  re-embarked  w  ith  f/zre^^  and  six-pence." 
Here  again  Johnson  and  Wilkes  joined  in  extravagant 
sportive  raillery  upon  the  supposed  poverty  of  Scotland, 
which  Dr.  Beattie  and  1  did  not  think  it  worth  our 
while  to  dispute. 

The  subject  of  quotation  being  introduced,  Mr. 
Wilkes  censured  it  as  pedantry.  Johnson.  "  No,  Sir, 
it  is  a  good  thing  ;  there  is  a  community  of  mind  in  it. 
Classical  quotation  is  the  parole  of  literary  men  all  over 
the  world."  Wilkes.  "  Upon  the  continent  they  all 
quote  the  vulgate  Bible.  Shakspeare  is  chiefly  quoted 
here;  and  we  quote  also  Pope,  Trior,  Butler,  Waller, 
and  sometimes  Cowley." 

W^e  talked  of  Letter- writing.  Johnson.  "  It  is  now 
become  so  much  the  fashion  to  publish  letters,  that  in 
order  to  avoid  it,  I  put  as  little  into  mine  as  I  can." 
Boswell.  "  Do  what  you  will.  Sir,  you  cannot  avoid 
it.  Should  you  even  write  as  ill  as  you  can,  your  letters 
would  be  published  as  curiosities  : 

*  Behold  a  miracle  !   instead  (tf  wit, 

'  See  two  dull  lines  with  Stanhope's   pencil  writ." 

He  gave  us  an  entertaining  account  of  Bet  Flint.,  a 
woman  of  the  town,  who,  with  some  eccentrick  talents 
and  much  effrontery,  forced  herself  upon  his  acquaint- 
ance.    "Bet   (said  he)   wrote   her  own  Life  in  verse," 

"  Johnson,  whose  memory  was  wonderfully  retentive,  remembered  the  first  four 
lines  of  this  curious  production,  which  have  been  communicated  to  me  by  a  young 
lady  of  his  acquaintance  : 

"  When  first  I  drew  my  vital  breath, 
"  A  little  minikin  I  came  upon  earth  ; 
"  And  then  I  came  from  a  dark  abode, 
"  Into  this  gay  and  gaudy  world." 


BR.    JOHNSON.  32i 

which  she  brought  to  me,  wishing  that  I  would  furnish  '/Si. 
her  with  a  Pieiace  to  it.     (Laughing.)   I  used  to  say  of  J^ 
her,  that  she  was  generally  slut  and  drunkard  ; — occa-*   72.  * 
sionally,  whore  and  thief.     She  had,  however,  genteel: 
lodgings,  a  spinnet  on  which  she  played,  and  a  boy 
that  walked  before  her  chair.     Poor  Bet  was  taken  up 
on  a  charge  of  stealing  a  counterpane,  and  tried  at  the 

Old    Bailey.       Chief  Justice    ,    who    loved    a 

wench,  summed  up  favourably,  and  she  was  acquitted.* 
After  which.  Bet  said,  with  a  gay  and  satisfied  air, 
*  Now  that  the  counterpane  is  my  own,  1  shall  make  a 
petticoat  of  it." 

Talking  of  oratory,  Mr.  Wilkes  described  it  as  ac- 
companied with  all  the  charms  of  poetical  expression. 
Johnson.  "  No,  Sir  ;  oratory  is  the  power  of  beating 
down  your  adversary's  arguments,  and  putting  better 
in  their  place."' — Wilkes.  "  But  this  does  not  move 
the  passions."  Johnson.  "  He  must  be  a  weak  man, 
who  is  to  be  so  moved."  Wilkes,  (naming  a  cele- 
brated orator)    "  Amidst  all  the  brilliancy  of  's 

imagination,  and  the  exuberance  of  his  wit,  there  is  a 
strange  want  of  taste.  It  was  observed  of  Apelles's 
Venus,'  that  her  flesh  seemed  as  if  she  had  been  nour- 
ished by  roses  :  his  oratory  would  sometimes  make  one 
suspect  that  he  eats  potatoes  and  drinks  whisky." 

Mr.  Wilkes  observed,  how  tenacious  we  are  of  forms 
in  this  country  ;  and  gave  as  an  instance,  the  vote  of 
the  House  of  Commons  for  remittino-  money  to  pay 
the  army  in  America  in  Portugal  pieces,  when,  in  re-^ 

*  [The  account  which  Johnson  had  received  on  this  occasion,  was  not  quite  ac' 
curate.  Bet  was  tried  at  the  Old  Bailey  in  September,  1758,  not  by  the  Chief 
Justice  here  alluded  to,  (who  however  tried  another  cause  on  the  same  day,)  but 
before  Sir  William  Moreton,  Recorder ;  and  she  was  acquitted,  not  in  consequence 
of  any  fa-uourable  summing  up  of  the  Judge,  but  because  the  Prosecutrix,  Mary  Wal- 
thow,  could  not  prove  that  the  goods  charged  to  have  been  stolen,  [a  counterpane, 
a  silver  spoon,  two  napkins,  &c.]  were  her  property. 

Bet  does  not  appear  to  have  lived  at  that  time  in  a  very  genteel  style  ;  for  she 
paid  for  her  ready-furnished  room  in  Meard's  Court,  Dean  Street,  Soho,  from  which, 
these  articles   were  alledged  to  be  stolen,  onXy  Ji-ue  shillings  a  week. 

Mr.  James  Boswell  took  the  trouble  to  examine  the  Sessions  Paper,  to  as<?ertain 
these  particulars.     M.] 

'  [Mr.  Wilkes  mistook  the  objection  of  Euphranor  to  the  Theseus  of  Parrha- 
fsius  for  a  description  of  the  Venus  of  Apelles.  Vide  Plutarch.  "■  BdUne  an  pace 
flariores  Atbenienses"     K.l 

VOL.  III.  50 


996  THE    LIFE    OF 

I78i.ality,  the  remittance  is  made  not  in  Portugal  money, 
but  in  our  specie.  Johnson.  "  Is  there  not  a  law,  Sir, 
against  exporting  the  current  coin  of  the  realm  V 
Wilkes.  "  Yes,  Sir  ;  but  might  not  the  House  of 
Commons,  in  case  of  real  evident  necessity,  order  our 
own  current  coin  to  be  sent  into  our  own  colonies  ?" — 
Here  Johnson,  with  that  quickness  of  recollection 
which  distinguished  him  so  eminently,  gave  the  Mid- 
dlesex  Patriot  an  admirable  retort  upon  his  own  ground. 
"  Sure,  Sir,  you  don't  think  a  resolution  of  the  House  of 
Commons  equal  to  the  law  of  the  land.  Wilkes,  (at 
once  perceiving  the  application)  "  God  forbid,  Sir," — 
To  hear  what  had  been  treated  with  such  violence  in 
"  The  False  Alarm,"  now  turned  into  pleasant  repartee, 
was  extremely  agreeable.  Johnson  went  on  : — "  Locke 
observes  well,  that  a  prohibition  to  export  the  current 
coin  is  impolitick  ;  for  when  the  balance  of  trade  hap- 
pens to  be  against  a  state,  the  current  coin  must  be 
exported." 

Mr.  Beauclerk's  great  library  was  this  season  sold  in 
London  by  auction.  Mr.  Wilkes  said,  he  wondered  to 
find  in  it  such  a  numerous  collection  of  sermons  : 
seeming  to  think  it  strange  that  a  gentleman  of  Mr. 
Beauclerk's  character  in  the  gay  world,  should  have 
chosen  to  have  many  compositions  of  that  kind.  John- 
son. "  Why,  Sir,  you  are  to  consider,  that  sermons 
jnake  a  considerable  branch  of  English  literature  ;  so 
that  a  library  must  be  very  imperfect  if  it  has  not  a 
numerous  collection  of  sermons:'   and  in  all  collec- 


'  Mr.  Wilkes  probably  did  not  know  that  there  is  in  an  Englisli  sermon  the  most, 
comprehensive  and  lively  account  of  that  entertaining  faculty,  for  which  he  himself 
was  so  much  admired.  It  is  in  Dr.  Barrow's  first  volume,  and  fourteenth  sermon. 
"  Against  foolish  Talking  and  Jesting^  My  old  acquaintance,  the  late  Corbyn  Morris, 
in  his  ingenious  "  Essay  on  Wit,  Humour,  and  Ridicule,"  calls  it  "  a  profuse  de- 
scription of  Wit :"  but  I  do  not  see  how  it  could  be  curtailed,  without  leaving  out 
some  good  circumstance  of  discrimination.  As  it  is  not  generally  known,  and 
may  perhaps  dispose  some  to  read  sermons,  from  which  they  may  receive  real  ad- 
vantage, while  looking  only  for  entertainment,  I  shall  here  subjoin  it. 

"  But  first  (says  the  learned  preacher)  it  may  be  demanded,  what  the  thing  w« 
speak  of  is  !  Or  what  this  facetiousness  (or  luH,  as  he  calls  it  before)  doth  import  ? 
To  which  questions  I  migiit  reply,  as  Bemocritus  did  to  him  that  asked  the  defi- 
nition of  a  man,  '  'Tis  that  which  we  all  see  and  know.'  Any  one  better  appre- 
hends what  it  is  by  acquaintance,  than  I  can  inform  him  by  description.  It  is,  in- 
deed, a  thing  so  versatile  and  multiform,  appearing  in  so  many  shapes,  so  many 
postures,  so  many  garbs,  so  variou?ly  apprehended  by  several  eyes  and  judgements/ 


DR.  JOHNSON.  :a27 

tions,  Sir,  the  desire  of  augmenting  them  grows  stronger  i78i. 
in  proportion  to  the  advance  in  acquisition  ;  as  motion  ^e^ 
is  accelerated  by  the  continuance  of  the  impefns.     Be-   72. 
sides,  Sir,  (looking  at  Mr.  Wilkes  with  a  placid  but 
significant  smile)  a  man  may  collect  sermons  with  in- 
tention of  making  himself  better  by  them.     1  hope  Mr. 
Beauclerk  intended,  that  some  time  or  other  that  should 
be  the  case  with  him." 

Mr.  Wilkes  said  to  me,  loud  enough  for  Dr.  John- 
son to  hear,  "  Dr.  Johnson  should  make  me  a  present 
of  his  '  Lives  of  the  Poets,'  as  1  am  a  poor  patriot,  who 
cannot  afford  to  buy  them."  Johnson  seemed  to  take 
no  notice  of  this  hint  ;  but  in  a  little  while,  he  called 
to  Mr.  Dilly,  "  Pray,  Sir,  be  so  good  as  to  send  a  set 
of  my  Lives  to  Mr.  Wilkes,  with  my  compliments." 
This  was  accordingly  done  ;  and  Mr.  Wilkes  paid  Dr. 

that  it  seemeth  no  less  hard  to  settle  a  clear  aad  certain  notion  thereof,  than  to 
make  a  portrait  of  Proteus,  or  to  define  the  figure  of  the  fleeting  air.  Sometimes  it 
lieth  in  pat  allusion  to  a  known  story,  or  in  seasonable  application  of  a  trivial  say- 
ing, or  in  forging  an  opposite  tale  ;  sometimes  it  playeth  in  words  and  phrases,  tak- 
ing advantage  from  the  ambiguity  of  their  sense,  or  the  affinity  of  their  sound  ; 
sometimes  it  is  wrapped  in  a  dress  of  humourous  expression  :  sometimes  it  lurketh 
under  an  odd  similitude  :  sometimes  it  is  lodged  in  a  sly  question,  in  a  smart  an- 
swer, in  a  quirldsh  reason,  in  a  shrewd  intimation.  In  cunningly  diverting  or  clev- 
erly retorting  an  objection  :  sometimes  it  is  couched  in  a  bold  scheme  of  speech,  in 
a  tart  irony,  in  a  lusty  hyperbole,  in  a  startling  metaphor,  in  a  plausible  reconciling 
of  contradictions,  or  in  acute  nonsense  :  sometimes  a  scenical  representation  of  per- 
sons or  things,  a  counterfeit  speech,  a  mimical  look  or  gesture,  passeth  for  it : 
sometimes  an  affected  simplicity,  sometimes  a  presumptuous  bluntness  glveth  it  be- 
ing ;  sometimes  it  riseth  only  from  a  lucky  hitting  upon  what  is  strange  :  sometimes 
from  a  crafty  wresting  obvious  matter  to  the  purpose.  Often  it  consisteth  in  one 
knows  not  what,  and  springeth  up  one  can  hardly  tell  how.  Its  ways  are  unac- 
countable, and  inexplicable ;  bemg  answerable  to  the  numberless  rovings  of  fancy, 
and  windings  of  language.  It  is,  in  short,  a  manner  of  speaking  out  of  the  simple 
and  plain  way,  (such  as  reason  teacheth  and  proveth  things  by,)  which  by  a  pretty 
surprising  uncouthness  in  conceit  or  expression,  doth  affect  and  amuse  the  fancy, 
stirring  in  it  some  wonder,  and  breeding  some  delight  thereto.  It  raiseth  admira- 
tion, as  signifying  a  nimble  sagacity  of  apprehension,  a  special  felicity  of  invention, 
a  vivacity  of  spirit,  and  reach  of  wit  more  than  vulgar  ;  it  seeming  to  argue  a  rare 
quickness  of  parts,  that  one  can  fetch  in  remote  conceits  applicable  ;  a  notable  skill, 
that  he  can  dextrously  accommodate  them  to  the  purpose  before  him  ;  together 
with  a  lively  briskness  of  humour,  not  apt  to  damp  those  sportful  flashes  of  imag- 
ination. (Whence  in  Aristotle  such  persons  are  termed  iTrtSi^wi,  dextrous  men, 
and  Eucpopof,  men  of  facile  or  versatile  manners,  who  can  easily  turn  themselves 
to  all  things,  or  turn  all  things  to  themselves.)  It  also  procureth  dehght,  by  grati- 
fying curiosity  with  its  rareness,  as  semblance  of  difficulty  :  (as  monsters,  not  for 
their  beauty,  but  their  rarity  ;  as  juggling  tricks,  not  for  their  use,  but  their  ab« 
struseness,  are  beheld  with  pleasure  :)  by  diverting  the  mind  from  its  road  of  se- 
rious thoughts  ;  by  instilling  gaiety  and  airiness  of  spirit ;  by  provoking  to  such 
dispositions  of  spirit  in  way  of  emulation  or  complaisance  ;  and  by  seasoning  mat-< 
tcrs,  otber>vise  distasteful  or  insipid,  with  an  unusual  and  tlience  grateful  tang." 


228  THE    LIFE    OF 

1781.  Johnson  a  visit,  was  courteously  received,  and  sat  with 

^J^hima  longtime. 

72.  The  company  gradually  dropped  away.  Mr.  Dilly 
himself  was  called  down  stairs  upon  business  ;  1  left 
the  room  for  some  time  ;  when  1  returned,  I  was 
struck  with  observing  Dr.  Samuel  Johnson  and  John 
Wilkes,  Esq.  literally  tSte-d-tite  ;  for  they  were  reclin- 
ed upon  their  chairs,  with  their  heads  leaning  almost 
close  to  each  other,  and  talking  earnestly,  in  a  kind  of 
confidential  whisper,  of  the  personal  quarrel  between 
George  the  Second  and  the  King  of  Prussia.  Such  a 
scene  of  perfectly  easy  sociality  between  two  such  op- 
ponents in  the  war  of  political  controversy,  as  that 
which  1  now  beheld,  would  have  been  an  excellent 
subject  for  a  picture.  It  presented  to  my  mind  the 
happy  days  which  are  foretold  in  Scripture,  when  the 
lion  ^hall  lie  down  with  the  kid.* 

After  this  day  there  was  a  another  pretty  long  inter- 
val, during  which  Dr.  Johnson  and  I  did  not  meet. 
When  1  mentioned  it  to  him  with  regret,  he  was  pleas- 
ed to  say,  "  Then,  Sir,  let  us  live  double." 

About  this  time  it  was  much  the  fashion  for  several 
ladies  to  have  evening  assemblies,  where  the  fair  sex 
might  participate  in  conversation  with  literary  and  in- 
genious men,  animated  by  a  desire  to  please.  These 
societies  were  denominated  Blue-stocking  Cluhs^  the 
origin  of  which  title  being  little  known,  it  may  be 
worth  while  to  relate  it.  One  of  the  most  eminent 
members  of  those  societies,  when  they  first  commenc- 
ed, was  Mr.  Stillingfleet, '  whose  dress  was  remarkably 
grave,  and  in  particular  it  was  observed,  that  he  wore 
blue  stockings.  Such  was  the  excellence  of  his  con- 
versation, that  his  absence  was  felt  as  so  great  a  loss, 
that  it  used  to  be  said,  "  We  can  do  nothing  without 
the  bluestockings  ;"  and  thus  by  degrees  the  title  was 

^  when  I  mentioned  this  to  the  Bishop  of  Killaloe, "  with  the  goat"  said  his 
Lordship.  Such,  however,  was  the  engajring  politeness  and  pleasantry  of  Mr. 
Wilkes,  and  such  the  social  good  humour  of  the  Bishop,  that  when  they  dined  to- 
gether at  Mr.  Diily's,  where  I  also  was,  they  were  mutually  agreeable. 

'  Mr.  Benjan^n  Stillingfleet,  authour  of  tracks  relating  to  natural  history,  &c, 


DR.    JOHNSON.  229 

established.     Miss   Hannah   More  has  admirably  de-  i78i. 
scribed  a   Blue-stocking  Club,  in  her  "  Bas  Bleu"  a  ^^Etlt^, 
poem   in  which  many  of  the  persons  who  were  most    72. 
conspicuous  there  are  mentioned. 

Johnson  was  prevailed  with  to  come  sometimes  into 
these  circles,  and  did  not  think  himself  too  grave  even 
for  the  lively  Miss  Monckton  (now  Countess  of  Corke) 
who  used  to  have  the  finest  bit  of  blue  at  the  house  of 
her  mother,  Lady  Galway.  Her  vivacity  enchanted 
the  Sage,  and  they  used  to  talk  together  with  all  imag- 
inable ease.  A  singular  instance  happened  one  eve- 
ning, when  she  insisted  that  some  of  Sterne's  writings 
were  very  pathetick.  Johnson  bluntly  denied  it.  "  I 
am  sure  (said  she)  they  have  affected  me''' — '•  Why 
(said  Johnson,  smiling,  and  rolling  himself  about,)  that 
is,  because,  dearest,  you're  a  dunce."  When  she 
some  time  afterwards  mentioned  this  to  him,  he  said 
with  equal  truth  and  politeness  ;  "  Madam,  if  1  had 
thought  so,  I  certainly  should  not  have  said  it." 

Another  evening  Johnson's  kind  indulgence  towards 
me  had  a  pretty  difficult  trial.  I  had  dined  at  the 
Duke  of  Montrose's  with  a  very  agreeable  party,  and 
his  Grace,  according  to  his  usual  custom,  had  circulat- 
ed the  bottle  very  freely.  Lord  Graham  and  I  went 
together  to  Miss  Monckton's,  where  1  certainly  was  in 
extraordinary  spirits,  and  above  all  fear  or  awe.  In 
the  midst  of  a  great  number  of  persons  of  the  first  rank, 
amongst  whom  1  recollect  with  confusion,  a  noble  lady 
of  the  most  stately  decorum,  1  placed  myself  next  to 
Johnson,  and  thinking  myself  now  fully  his  match, 
talked  to  him  in  a  loud  and  boisterous  manner,  desir- 
ous to  let  the  company  know  how  1  could  contend 
with  Ajax.  1  particularly  remember  pressing  him  up- 
on the  value  of  the  pleasures  of  the  imagination,  and 
as  an  illustration  of  my  argument,  asking  him,  "  What, 

Sir,  supposing  I  were  to  fancy  that  the (naming 

the  most  charming  Duchess  in  his  Majesty's  domin- 
ions) were  in  love  with  me,  should  1  not  be  very 
happy  \"  My  friend  with  much  address  evaded  my 
interrogatories,  and  kept  me  as  quiet  as  possible  ;  but 


230  THE    LIFE    OF 

1781.  it  may  easily  be  conceived   how  he  must  have  felt.* 
^J^  However,  when  a  few  days  afterwards  1  waited  upon 
72.    him  and   made  an   apology,  he  behaved  with  the  most 
friendly  gentleness. 

While  I  remained  in  London  this  year,  Johnson  and 
I  dined  together  at  several  places.  1  recollect  a  placid 
day  at  Dr.  Butter's,  who  had  now  removed  from  Derby 
to  Lower-Grosvenor-street,  London  ;  but  of  his  conver- 
sation on  that  and  other  occasions  during  this  period,  I 
neglected  to  keep  any  regular  record,  and  shall  there- 
fore insert  here  some  miscellaneous  articles  which  1 
find  in  my  Johnsonian  notes. 

His  disorderly  habits,  when  "  making  provision  for 
the  day  that  was  passing  over  him,"  appear  from  the 
following  anecdote,  communicated  to  me  by  Mr.  John 
Nichols  : — "  in  the  year  176.3,  a  young  bookseller,  who 
was  an  apprentice  to  Mr.  Whiston,  waited  on  him  with 
a  subscription  to  his  '  Shakspeare  :'  and  observing  that 
the  Doctor  made  no  entry  in  any  book  of  the  subscrib- 
er's name,  ventured  diffidently  to  ask,  whether  he  would 

"  Next  day  I  endeavoured  to  give  what  had  happened  the  most  ingenious  tura 
r  could,  by  the  following  verses  : 

TO    THE  HONOCRABLE  MISS  MONCKTON, 

Not  that  with  th'  excellent  Montrose 

I  had  the  happiness  to  dine  ; 
Not  rhat  I  late  from  table  rose, 

From  Graham's  wit,  from  generous  wine. 

It  was  not  these  alone  which  led 

On  sacred  manners  to  encroach  ; 
And  made  me  feel  what  most  1  dread, 

Johnson's  just  frown,  and  self-reproach. 

But  when  I  enter'd,  not  abash'd, 

From  your  bright  eyes  were  shot  such  rays, 
At  once  intoxication  flash 'd. 

And  all  my  frame  was  in  a  blaze ! 

But  not  a  brilliant  blaze  I  own, 

Of  the  dull  smoke  I'm  yet  asham'd  ; 
I  was  a  dreary  ruin  grown, 

And  not  enlighten 'd  though  inflam'd; 

Victim  at  once  to  wine  and  love, 

I  hope,  Maria,  you'll  forgive  ; 
While  I  invoke  the  powers  above, 

That  henceforth  I  may  wiser  live. 

I'he  lady  was  generously  forgivmg,  returned  me  an  obliging  aus^vcr,  aiid  I  thus 
attained  an  Act  of  Oblhioa,  and  took  care  never  to  offend  again. 


DR.   JOHNSON.  231 

please  to  have  the  gentleman's  address,  that  it  might  be  i78i. 
properly   inserted  in  the  printed  hst  of  subscribers. —  ^J^ 
'  /  shall  print  no  List  of  Subscribers ;'  said  Johnson,    72.  * 
with  great  abruptness  :  but  ahnost  immediately  recol- 
lecting himself,  added,  very  complacently,  '  Sir,  I  have 
two  very  cogent  reasons  for  not  printing  any  list  of  sub- 
scribers ; — one,  that  I  have  lost  all  the  names, — the 
other,  that  1  have  spent  all  the  money." 

Johnson  could  not  brook  appearing  to  be  worsted  in 
argument,  even  when  he  had  taken  the  wrong  side,  to 
shew  the  force  and  dexterity  of  his  talents.  When, 
therefore, he  perceived  that  his  opponent  gained  ground, 
he  had  recourse  to  some  sudden  mode  of  robust  soph- 
istry. Once  when  I  was  pressing  upon  him  with  visi- 
ble advantage,  he  stopped  me  thus  : — "  My  dear  Bos- 
well,  let's  have  no  more  of  this ;  you'll  make  nothing 
of  it.     I'd  rather  have  you  whistle  a  Scotch  tune." 

Care,  however,  must  be  taken  to  distinguish  between 
Johnson  when  he  "  talked  for  victory,"  and  Johnson 
when  he  had  no  desire  but  to  inform  and  illustrate. — 
*•*  One  of  Johnson's  principal  talents  (says  an  eminent 
friend  of  his)^  was  shewn  in  maintaining  the  wrong 
side  of  an  argument,  and  in  a  splendid  perversion  of 
the  truth. — If  you  could  contrive  to  have  his  fair  opin- 
ion on  a  subject,  and  without  any  bias  from  personal 
prejudice,  or  from  a  wish  to  be  victorious  in  argument, 
it  was  wisdom  itself,  not  only  convincing,  but  overpow- 
ering." 

He  had,  however,  all  his  life  habituated  himself  to 
consider  conversation  as  a  trial  of  intellectual  vigour 
and  skill  ;  and  to  this  I  think,  we  may  venture  to  as- 
cribe that  unexampled  richness  and  brilliancy  which 
appeared  in  his  own.  As  a  proof  at  once  of  his  eager- 
ness for  colloquial  distinction,  and  his  high  notion  of 
this  eminent   friend,    he   once   addressed    him  thus  : 

" ,  we  now  have  been  several  hours  together  ;  and 

you  have  said  but  one  thing  for  which  I  envied  you." 

He  disliked  much  all  speculative  desponding  consid- 
erations, which  tended  to  discourage  men  from  dili- 

'  rThe  late  Right  Hon.  WiUiara  Gerrard  Hamilton.    M? 


232  THE    LIFE    OP 

1781.  gence  and  exertion.  He  was  in  this  like  Dr.  Shaw, 
^^  the  great  traveller,  who  Mr.  Daines  Harrington  told  me, 
72.  used  to  say,  "  I  hate  a  cui  bono  man."  Upon  being 
asked  by  a  friend  what  he  should  think  of  a  man  who 
was  apt  to  say  non  est  tanti  ; — "  That  he^s  a  stupid  fel- 
low, Sir,  (answered  Johnson)  :  What  would  these  tanti 
men  be  doing  the  while  ?"  When  I  in  a  low-spirited 
fit,  was  talking  to  him  with  indifference  of  the  pursuits 
which  generally  engage  us  in  a  course  of  action,  and 
enquiring  a  reason  for  taking  so  much  trouble  ;  "  Sir 
(said  he,  in  an  animated  tone)  it  is  driving  on  the  sys- 
tem of  life." 

He  told  me,  that  he  was  glad  that  1  had,  by  General 
Oglethorpe's  means,  become  acquainted  with  Dr.  Sheb- 
beare.  Indeed  that  gentleman,  whatever  objections 
were  made  to  him,  had  knowledge  and  abilities  much 
above  the  class  of  ordinary  writers,  and  deserves  to  be 
remembered  as  a  respectable  name  in  literature,  were 
it  only  for  his  admirable  "  Letters  on  the  English  Na- 
tion," under  the  name  of  "  Battista  Angeloni,  a  Jesuit." 
Johnson  and  Shebbeare,^  were  frequently  named  to- 
gether, as  having  in  former  reigns  had  no  predilection 
for  the  family  of  Hanover.  The  authour  of  the  cele- 
brated "  Heroick  Epistle  to  Sir  William  Chambers," 
introduces  them  in  one  line,  in  a  list  of  those  "  who 
tasted  the  sweets  of  his  present  Majesty's  reign."  Such 
was  Johnson's  candid  relish  of  the  merit  of  that  satire, 
that  he  allowed  Dr.  Goldsmith,  as  he  told  me,  to  read 
it  to  him  from  beginning  to  end^  and  did  not  refuse  his 
praise  to  its  execution. 

Goldsmith  could  sometimes  take  adventurous  liber- 
ties with  him,  and  escape  unpunished.  Beauclerk  told 
me  that  when  Goldsmith  talked  of  a  project  for  having 
a  third  Theatre  in  London  solely  for  the  exhibition  of 
new  plays,  in  order  to  deliver  authours  from  the  sup- 
posed tyranny  of  managers,  Johnson  treated  it  slight- 
ingly, upon  which  Goldsmith  said,  "  Ay,  ay,  this  may 
be   nothing  to  you,  who  can  now  shelter  yourself  be- 

'  I  recollect  a  ludicrous  paragraph  in  the  newspapers,  tliat  the  King  had  p^n- 
sion^  both  a  if<r-bear  and  a  ^Af-bear. 


DR.  JOHNSON.  233 

hind  the  corner  of  a  pension  ;"  and  Johnson  bore  this  17bi. 
with  good-humour.  ^uT. 

Johnson  praised  the  Earl  of  Carlisle's  Poems,  which  72.  * 
his  Lordship  had  published  with  his  name,  as  not  dis- 
daining to  be  a  candidate  for  literary  fame.  My  friend 
was  of  opinion,  that  when  a  man  of  rank  appeared  in 
that  character,  he  deserved  to  have  his  merit  hand- 
somely allowed.^  In  this  1  think  he  was  more  liberal 
than  Mr.  William  Whitehead,  in  his  "  Elegy  to  Lord 
Villiers,"  in  which  under  the  pretext  of  "  superiour 
toils,  demanding  all  their  care,"  he  discovers  a  jealousy 
of  the  great  paying  their  court  to  the  Muses  : 

" to  the  chosen  few 


"  Who  dare  excel,  thy  fost'ring  aid  afford, 

"  Their  arts,  their  magick  powers,  with  honours,  due 

"  Exalt  ; — but  be  thyself  what  they  record." 

Johnson  had  called  twice  on  the  Bishop  of  Killaloe 
before  his  Lordship  set  out  for  Ireland,  having  missed 
him  the  first  time.  He  said,  "  It  would  have  hung 
heavy  on  my  heart  if  1  had  not  seen  him.  No  man 
ever  paid  more  attention  to  another  than  he  has  done 

■  Men  of  rank  and  fortune  however  should  be  pretty  well  assured  of  having  a 
real  claim  to  the  approbation  of  the  publick,  as  writers,  before  they  venture  to 
stand  forth.     Dryden  in  his  preface  to  "  All  for  Love,"  thus  expresses  himself : 

"  Men  of  pleasant  conversation  (at  least  esteemed  so)  and  endued  with  a  trifling 
kind  of  fancy,  perhaps  helped  out  by  a  smattering  of  Latin,  are  ambitious  to 
distinguish  themselves  from  the  herd  of  gentlemen,  by  their  poetry  : 

'  Rarus  enim  fermi  sensus  communis  in  ilia 
'  Fortuna^         ■ 

And  is  not  this  a  wretched  affectation,  not  to  be  contented  with  what  fortune  has 
done  for  them,  and  sit  down  quietly  with  their  estates,  but  they  must  call  their 
wits  in  question,  and  needlessly  expose  their  nakedness  to  publick  view  ?  Not  con- 
sidering that  they  are  not  to  expect  the  same  approbation  from  sober  men,  which 
they  have  found  from  their  flatterers  after  the  third  bottle :  If  a  little  gUttering  in 
discourse  has  passed  them  on  us  for  witty  men,  where  was  the  necessity  of  unde- 
ceiving the  world  ?  Would  a  man,  who  has  an  ill  title  to  an  estate,  but  yet  is  in 
possession  of  it,  would  he  bring  it  out  of  his  own  accord  to  be  tried  at  Westminster  ? 
We  who  write,  if  we  want  the  talents,  yet  have  the  excuse  that  we  do  it  for  a  poor 
subsistence  ;  but  what  can  be  urged  in  tlieir  defence,  who,  not  having  the  voca- 
tion of  poverty  to  scribble,  out  of  mere  wantonness  take  pains  to  make  themselves 
ridiculous  ?  Horace  was  certainly  In  the  right  where  he  said,  '  That  no  man  is 
satisfied  with  his  own  condition.'  A  Poet  is  not  pleased,  because  he  is  not  rich  ; 
and  the  rich  are  discontented  because  the  poets  will  not  admit  fhem  of  their 
number." 

YO),.    ITT.  30 


234?  THE    LIFE    OF 

1781.  to  me  ;*  and  I  have  neglected  him,  not  wilfully,  but 
^^  from  being  otherwise  occupied.  Always,  Sir,  set  a 
72.  high  value  on  spontaneous  kindness.  He  whose  in- 
clination prompts  him  to  cultivate  your  friendship  of 
his  own  accord,  will  love  you  more  than  one  whom 
you  have  been  at  pains  to  attdch  to  you." 

Johnson  told  me,  that  he  was  once  much  pleased 
to  find  that  a  carpenter,  who  lived  near  him,  was  very 
ready  to  shew  him  some  things  in  his  business  which 
he  wished  to  see  :  "  It  was  paying  (said  he)  respect 
to  literature." 

i  asked  him,  if  he  was  not  dissatisfied  with  having 
so  small  a  share  of  wealth,  and  none  of  those  distinc- 
tions in  the  state  which  are  the  objects  of  ambition. 
He  had  only  a  pension  of  three  hundred  a  year.  Why 
was  he  not  in  such  circumstances  as  to  keep  his  coach! 
Why  had  he  not  some  considerable  office  !  Johnson. 
"  Sir,  1  have  never  complained  of  the  world  ;  nor  do  I 
think  that  I  have  reason  to  complain.  It  is  rather  to 
be  wondered  at  that  1  have  so  much.  My  pension  is 
more  out  of  the  usual  course  of  things  than  any  in- 
stance that  1  have  known.  Here,  Sir,  was  a  man  avow- 
edly no  friend  to  Government  at  the  time,  who  got  a 
pension  without  asking  for  it.  I  never  courted  the 
great  ;  they  sent  for  me  ;  but  I  think  they  now  give 
me  up.  They  are  satisfied  ;  they  have  seen  enough 
of  me."  Upon  my  observing  that  I  could  not  believe 
this  ;  for  they  must  certainly  be  highly  pleased  by  his 
conversation  ;  conscious  of  his  own  superiority,  he 
answered,  "  No,  Sir  ;    great  Lords  and  great  Ladies 

8  This  gave  me  very  great  pleasure,  for  there  had  been  once  a  pretty  smart  al- 
terc;ition  between  Dr.  Barnard  and  him.  upon  a  question,  whether  a  man  could 
improve  himself  after  the  age  of  forty-five  ;  when  Johnson  in  a  hasty  humour, 
expres-^ed  himself  in  a  manner  not  quite  civil.  Dr.  Barnard  made  it  the  subject  of 
a  copy  of  pleasant  verses,  in  which  he  supposed  himself  to  learn  different  perfec- 
tions Irora  different  men.     They  concluded  with  delicate  irony  : 

"  Johnson  shall  teach  me  how  to  place 
"  In  fairest  light  each  borrow'd  grace  ; 

"  From  him  I'll  learn  to  write  : 
"  Copy  his  clear  familiar  style, 
"  And  by  the  roughness  of  his  file 

"  Grow,  like  himself, polite" 

I  know  not  whether  Johnson  ever  saw  the  Poem,  but  I  had  occasion  to  find  that 
as  Dr.  Barnard  and  he  knew  each  other  better,  their  mutual  regard  increased. 


DR.    JOHNSON.  935 

don't  love  to  have  their  mouths  stopped."     This  was  i78i. 
very  expressive  of  the  effect  which   the  force  of  his  ^^^ 
understanding  and  brilliancy  of  his  fancy  could  not  but    72. ' 
produce  ;  and,  to  be  sure,  they  must  have  found  them- 
selves strangely  diminished  in  his  company.     When  I 
warmly  declared  how   happy  1  was  at  all  times  to  hear 
him  ; — "  Yes,  Sir,   (said  he  ;)  but  if  you   were   Lord 
Chancellor,  it  would  not  be  so  :  you  would  then  con- 
sider your  own  dignity." 

There  was  much  truth  and  knowledge  of  human 
nature  in  this  remark.  But  certainly  one  should  think, 
that  in  whatever  elevated  state  of  life  a  man  who  knew 
the  value  of  the  conversation  of  Johnson  might  be 
placed,  though  he  might  prudently  avoid  a  situation  in 
which  he  might  appear  lessened  by  comparison  ;  yet 
he  would  frequently  gratify  himself  in  private  with  the 
participation  of  the  rich  intellectual  entertainment 
which  Johnson  could  furnish.  Strange,  however,  is  it, 
to  consider  how  few  of  the  great  sought  his  society  ;  so 
that  if  one  were  disposed  to  take  occasion  for  satire  on 
that  account,  very  conspicuous  objects  present  them- 
selves. His  noble  friend,  Lord  Elibank,  well  observed, 
that  if  a  great  man  procured  an  interview  with  John- 
son, and  did  not  wish  to  see  him  more,  it  shewed  a 
mere  idle  curiosity,  and  a  wretched  want  of  relish  for 
extraordinary  powers  of  mind.  Mrs.  Thrale  justly  and 
wittily  accounted  for  such  conduct  by  saying,  that 
Johnson's  conversation  was  by  much  too  strong  for  a 
person  accustomed  to  obsequiousness  and  flattery  ;  it 
was  mustard  in  a  young  cJiilcTs  mouth  ! 

One  day,  when  1  told  him  that  I  was  a  zealous 
Tory,  but  not  enough  "  according  to  knowledge,"  and 
should  be  obliged  to  him  for  "  a  reason,"  he  was  so 
candid,  and  expressed  himself  so  well,  that  1  begged  of 
him  to  repeat  what  he  had  said,  and  I  wrote  down  as 
follows : 

OF  TORY    AND    WHIG. 

"A  wise  Tory  and  a  wise  Whig,  I  believe,  will 
agree.  Their  principles  are  the  same,  though  their 
modes  of  thinking  are  different.  A  high  i'orv  makes 
government  unintelligible  :  it  is  lost  in  the  clouds.     A 


236  IHE    LIFE    OF 

1781.  violent  Whig  makes  it  impracticable  :  he  is  for  alLow- 
2J^  ing  so  much  liberty  to  every  man,  that  there  is  not 
73,  *  power  enough  to  govern  any  man.  The  prejudice  of 
the  Tory  is  for  establishment  ;  the  prejudice  of  the 
Whig  is  for  innovation.  A  Tory  does  not  wish  to  give 
more  real  power  to  Government  ;  but  that  Govern- 
ment should  have  more  reverence.  Then  they  differ 
as  to  the  church.  The  Tory  is  not  for  giving  more 
legal  power  to  the  Clergy,  but  wishes  they  should  have 
a  "considerable  influence,  founded  on  the  opinion  of 
mankind  :  the  Whig  is  for  limiting  and  watching  them 
"with  a  narrow  jealousy," 


"  TO  MR.  PERKINS. 


*'SIR, 


"  Hov\rEVER  often  I  have  seen  you,  I  have  hither- 
to forgotten  the  note,  but  I  have  now  sent  it  :  with 
my  good  wishes  for  the  prosperity  of  you  and  your 
partner, 3  of  whom,  from  our  short  conversation,  1  could 
not  judge  otherwise  than  favourably.  I  am,  Sir, 
'*  Your  most  humble  servant, 
"  June  2,  1781.  "  Sam.  Johnson." 

On  Saturday,  June  2,  I  set  out  for  Scotland,  and 
had  promised  to  pay  a  visit,  in  my  way,  as  1  sometimes 
did,  at  Southill,  in  Bedfordshire,  at  the  hospitable 
mansion  of  'Squire  Dilly,  the  elder  brother  of  my 
worthy  friends,  the  booksellers,  in  the  Poultry.  Dr. 
Johnson  agreed  to  be  of  the  party  this  year,  with  Mr. 
Charles  Dilly  and  me,  and  to  go  and  see  Lord  Bute's 
seat  at  Luton  Hoe.  He  talked  little  to  us  in  the  car- 
riage, being  chiefly  occupied  in  reading  Dr.  Watson's* 

'  Mr.  Barclay,  a  descendant  of  Robert  Barclay,  of  Ury,  the  celebrated  apolo> 
gist  of  the  people  called  Quakers,  and  remarkable  for  maintaining  the  principles  of 
his  venerable  progenitor,  with  as  much  of  the  elegance"  of  modern  manners,  as  is 
consistent  with  primitive  simplicity. 

Now  Bishop  of  LlandafT,  one  of  tlie  poorest  Bishopricks  in  this  Kingdom.  Hi» 
Lordship  has  written  with  much  zeal  to  shew  the  propriety  of  equalising  the  reve- 
nues of  Bishops.  He  has  informed  us  that  he  has  burnt  all  his  Chemical  papers^ 
The  friends  of  our  excellent  constitution,  now  assailed  on  every  side  by  innova-< 
tors  and  levellers,  woidd  have  le5s  regretted  the  ^upprcwion  of  some  of  his  Lord* 
ship's  other  writings*  ^ 


DR.   JOHNSON.  g37 

second  volume  of  "  Chemical  Essays,"  which  he  liked  '781. 
very  well,  and  his  own  "  Prince  of  Abyssinia,"  on  ^^^ 
which  he  seemed  to  be  intensely  fixed  ;  having  told  us,  70. 
that  he  had  not  looked  at  it  since  it  was  first  published. 
I  happened  to  take  it  out  of  my  pocket  this  day,  and 
he  seized  upon  it  with  avidity.  He  pointed  out  to  me 
the  following  remarkable  passage  :  "  By  what  means 
(said  the  prince)  are  the  Europeans  thus  powerful  ;  or 
why,  since  they  can  so  easily  visit  Asia  and  Africa  for 
trade  or  conquest,  cannot  the  Asiaticks  and  Africans 
invade  their  coasts,  plant  colonies^  in  their  ports,  and 
give  laws  to  their  natural  princes  ?  The  same  wind 
that  carried  them  back  would  bring  us  thither." — 
"  They  are  more  powerful.  Sir,  than  we,  (answered 
Imlac,)  because  they  are  wiser.  Knowledge  will  al- 
ways predominate  over  ignorance,  as  man  governs  the 
other  animals.  But  why  their  knowledge  is  more  than 
ours,  1  know  not  what  reason  can  be  given,  but  the 
unsearchable  will  of  the  Supreme  Being."  He  said, 
"  This,  Sir,  no  man  can  explain  otherwise." 

We  stopped  at  Welwin,  where  I  wished  much  to  see, 
in  company  with  Johnson,  the  residence  of  the  authour 
of  "  Night  Thoughts,"  which  was  then  possessed  by 
his  son,  Mr.  Young.  Here  some  address  was  requisite, 
for  I  was  not  acquainted  with  Mr.  Young,  and  had  I 
proposed  to  Dr.  Johnson  that  we  should  send  to  him, 
he  would  have  checked  my  wish,  and  perhaps  been  of- 
fended. 1  therefore  concerted  with  Mr.  Dilly,  that  I 
should  steal  away  from  Dr.  Johnson  and  him,  and  try 
what  reception  I  could  procure  from  Mr.  Young  ;  if 
unfavourable,  nothing  was  to  be  said  ;  but  if  agreeable, 
I  should  return  and  notify  it  to  them.  I  hastened  to 
Mr.  Young's,  found  he  was  at  home,  sent  in  word  that 
a  gentleman  desired  to  wait  upon  him,  and  was  shewn 
into  a  parlour,  where  he  and  a  young  lady,  his  daughter, 
were  sitting.  He  appeared  to  be  a  plain,  civil,  country 
gentleman  ;  and  when  1  begged  pardon  for  presummg 
to  trouble  him,  but  that  I  wished  much  to  see  his  place, 
if  he  would  give  me  leave  ;  he  behaved  very  courte- 

'  [The  Phoenicians  wd  Carthaginians  did  plant  coloraes  in  Europe.    K.] 


238  THE    LIFE    OF 

1781.  ously,  and  answered,  "By  all  means,  Sir;  we  are  just 
^tat  ^*^'"8'  ^^  drink  tea  ;  will  you  sit  down  ?"  I  thanked  him, 
72.  but  said,  that  Dr.  Johnson  had  eome  with  me  from  Lon- 
don, and  1  must  return  to  the  inn  to  drink  tea  with 
him  :  that  my  name  was  Boswell,  I  had  travelled  with 
him  in  the  Hebrides..  "  Sir,  (said  he)  I  should  think 
it  a  great  honour  to  see  Dr.  Johnson  here.  Will  you 
allow  me  to  send  for  him?"  Availing  myself  of  this 
opening,  I  said  that  "  1  would  go  myself  and  bring  him, 
when  he  had  drunk  tea  ;  he  knew  nothing  of  my  calling 
here."  Having  been  thus  successful,  I  hastened  back 
to  the  inn,  and  informed  Dr.  .lohnson  that  "  xVIr.  Young, 
son  of  Dr.  Young,  the  authour  of  '  Night  Thoughts,' 
whom  1  had  just  left,  desired  to  have  the  honour  of 
seeing  him  at  the  house  where  his  father  lived."  Dr. 
Johnson  luckily  made  no  enquiry  how  this  invitation 
had  arisen,  but  agreed  to  go,  and  when  we  entered  Mr. 
Young's  parlour,  he  addressed  him  with  a  very  polite 
bow,  "  Sir,  I  had  a  curiosity  to  come  and  see  this  place. 
I  had  the  honour  to  know  that  great  man,  your  father." 
We  went  into  the  garden,  where  we  found  a  gravel 
walk,  on  each  side  of  which  was  a  row  of  trees,  planted 
by  Dr.  Young,  which  formed  a  handsome  Gothick 
arch  ;  Dr.  Johnson  called  it  a  fine  grove.  1  beheld  it 
with  reverence. 

We  sat  some  time  in  the  summer-house,  on  the  out- 
side wall  of  which  was  inscribed,  "  Ambidantes  in  horto 
andiebant  vocem  Dei ;"  and  in  reference  to  a  brook  by 
which  it  is  situated,  "  Vivendi  recf^  qui prorogat  horum^ 
&c.  1  said  to  Mr.  Young,  that  1  had  been  told  his  fa- 
ther was  cheerful.  "  Sir,  (said  he)  he  was  too  well-bred 
a  man  not  to  be  cheerful  in  company  ;  but  he  was 
gloomy  when  alone.  He  never  was  cheerful  after  my 
mother's  death,  and  he  had  met  with  many  disappoint- 
ing nls."  Dr.  Johnson  observed  to  me  afterwards,  "That 
this  was  no  favourable  account  of  Dr.  Young  ;  for  it  is 
not  becoming  in  a  man  to  have  so  little  acquiescence 
in  the  ways  of  Providence,  as  to  be  gloomy  because  he 
has  not  obtained  as  much  preferment  as  he  expected  ; 
nor  to  continue  gloomy  for  the  loss  of  his  wife.  Grief 
has  its  time."    The  last  part  of  this  censure  was  theo- 


DR.   JOHNSON.  939 

retically  made.     Practically,  we  know  that  grief  for  the  i78i. 
loss  of  a  wife  may  be  continued  very  long,  in  proportion  JJ^ 
as  affection  has  been  sincere.     No  man  knew  this  bet-   72. 
ter  than  Dr.  Johnson. 

We  went  into  the  church,  and  looked  at  the  monu- 
ment erected  by  Mr.  Young  to  his  father.  Mr.  Young 
mentioned  an  anecdote,  that  his  father  had  received 
several  thousand  pounds  of  subscription-money  for  his 
"  Universal  Passion,"  but  had  lost  it  in  the  South-Sea.  ^ 
Dr.  Johnson  thought  this  must  be  a  mistake  ;  for  he 
had  never  seen  a  subscription-book. 

Upon  the  road  we  talked  of  the  uncertainty  of  profit 
with  which  authours  and  booksellers  engage  in  the 
publication  of  literary  works.  Johnson.  "  My  judge- 
ment I  have  found  is  no  certain  rule  as  to  the  sale  of  a 
book."  BosWELL.  "Pray,  Sir,  have  you  been  much 
plagued  with  authours  sending  you  their  works  to 
revise?"  Johnson.  "No,  Sir;  1  have  been  thought 
a  sour  surly  fellow."  Boswell.  "  Very  lucky  for  you. 
Sir, — in  that  respect."  1  must  however  observe,  that 
notwithstanding  what  he  now  said,  which  he  no  doubt 
imagined  at  the  time  to  be  the  fact,  there  was,  perhaps, 
no  man  who  more  frequently  yielded  to  the  solicita- 
tions even  of  very  obscure  authours,  to  read  their  man- 
uscripts, or  more  liberally  assisted  them  with  advice 
and  correction. 

He  found  himself  very  happy  at  ^Squire  Dilly's, 
where  there  is  always  abundance  of  excellent  fare,  and 
hearty  welcome. 

On  Sunday,  June  3,  we  all  went  to  Southill  church, 
which  is  very  near  to  Mr.  Dilly's  house.  It  being  the 
first  Sunday  of  the  month,  the  holy  sacrament  was  ad- 
ministered, and  I  staid  to  partake  of  it.  When  I  came 
afterwards  into  Dr.  Johnson^s  room,  he  said,  "  You  did 
right  to  stay  and  receive  the  communion  ;  I  had  not 
thought  of  it."  This  seemed  to  imply  that  he  did  not 
choose  to  approach  the  altar  without  a  previous  prepar- 
ation, as  to  which  good  men  entertain  different  opinions, 

'  [This  assertion  is  disproved  by  a  comparison  of  dates.  The  first  four  satires 
of  Young  were  published  in  1725  ;  The  South-Sea  scheme  (which  appears  to  be 
meant,)  was  in  1720.    M.] 


S40  THE    LIFE    OF 

1781.  some  holding  that  it  is  irreverent  to  partake  of  that  or^ 
^J^  dinance  without  considerable  premeditation  ;  others, 
72,  that  whoever  is  a  sincere  Christian,  and  in  a  proper 
frame  of  mind  to  discharge  any  other  ritual  duty  of  our 
religion,  may,  without  scruple,  discharge  this  most  sol- 
emn one.  A  middle  notion  I  believe  to  be  the  just 
one,  which  is,  that  communicants  need  not  think  a 
long  train  of  preparatory  forms  indispensably  necessary  ; 
but  neither  should  they  rashly  and  lightly  venture  upon 
so  aweful  and  mysterious  an  institution.  Christians 
must  judge  each  for  himself,  what  degree  of  retirement 
and  self-examination  is  necessary  upon  each  occasion. 

Being  in  a  frame  of  mind  which,  1  hope  for  the  felicity 
of  human  nature,  many  experience, — in  fine  weather, 
— at  the  country  house  of  a  friend, — consoled  and  ele- 
vated by  pious  exercises, — I  expressed  myself  with  an 
unrestrained  fervour  to  my  "  Guide,  Philosopher,  and 
Friend  ;"  "  My  dear  Sir,  I  would  fain  be  a  good  man  ; 
and  1  am  very  good  now.  I  fear  God,  and  honour  the 
King,  I  wish  to  do  no  ill,  and  to  be  benevolent  to  all 
mankind."  He  looked  at  me  with  a  benignant  indul- 
gence ;  but  took  occasion  to  give  me  wise  and  salutary 
caution.  "  Do  not.  Sir,  accustom  yourself  to  trust  to 
impressions.  There  is  a  middle  state  of  mind  between 
conviction  and  hypocrisy,  of  which  many  are  conscious. 
By  trusting  to  impressions,  a  man  may  gradually  come 
to  yield  to  them,  and  at  length  be  subject  to  them,  so 
as  not  to  be  a  free  agent,  or  what  is  the  same  thing  in 
effect,  to  suppose  that  he  is  not  a  free  agent.  A  man 
who  is  in  that  state,  should  not  be  suffered  to  live  ;  if 
he  declares  he  cannot  help  acting  in  a  particular  way, 
and  is  irresistibly  impelled,  there  can  be  no  confidence 
in  him,  no  more  than  in  a  tyger.  But,  Sir,  no  man  be- 
lieves himself  to  be  impelled  irresistibly  ;  we  know  that 
he  who  says  he  believes  it,  lies.  Favourable  impres- 
sions at  particular  moments,  as  to  the  state  of  our  souls, 
may  be  deceitful  and  dangerous.  In  general  no  man 
can  be  sure  of  his  acceptance  with  God  ;  some,  indeed, 
may  have  had  it  revealed  to  them.  St.  Paul,  who 
wrought  miracles,  may  have  had  a  miracle  wrought  on 
himself,  and  may  have  obtained  supernatural  assurance 


DR.   JOHNSON.  241 

of  pardon,  and  mercy,  and  beatitude;  yet  St.  Paul,  ^781. 
though  he  expresses  strong  hope,  also  expresses  fear,  ^^. 
lest  having  preached  to  others,  he  himself  should  be  a   72. 
cast-away.^* 

The  opinion  of  a  learned  Bishop  of  our  acquaintance, 
as  to  there  being  merit  in  religious  faith,  being  men- 
tioned ; — Johnson.  "  Why,  yes,  Sir,  the  most  licen- 
tious man,  vveie  hell  open  before  him,  would  not  take 
the  most  beautiful  strumpet  to  his  arms.  We  must,  as 
the  Apostle  says,  live  by  faith,  not  by  sight." 

I  talked  to  him  of  original  sin,*  in  consequence  of 
the  fall  of  man,  and  of  the  atonement  made  by  our 
Saviour.  After  some  conversation,  which  he  desired 
me  to  remember,  he,  at  my  request,  dictated  to  me  as 
follows : 

"  With  respect  to  original  sin,  the  enquiry  is  not 
necessary  ;  for  whatever  is  the  cause  of  human  corrup- 
tion, men  are  evidently  and  confessedly  so  corrupt, 
that  all  the  laws  of  heaven  and  earth  are  insufficient  to 
restrain  them  from  crimes. 

"  Whatever  difficulty  there  may  be  in  the  conception 
of  vicarious  punishments,  it  is  an  opinion  which  has 
had  possession  of  mankind  in  all  ages.  There  is  no  na- 
tion that  has  not  used  the  practice  of  sacrifices.  Who- 
ever, therefore,  denies  the  propriety  of  vicarious  pun- 
ishments, holds  an  opinion  which  the  sentiments  and 
practice  of  mankind  have  contradicted,  from  the  begin- 
ning of  the  world.  The  great  sacrifice  for  the  sins  of 
mankind  was  offered  at  the  death  of  the  Messiah,  who 
is  called  in  scripture,  'The  Lamb  of  God,  that  taketh 
away  the  sins  of  the  world.'  To  judge  of  the  reasona- 
bleness of  the  scheme  of  redemption,  it  must  be  consid- 
ered as  necessary  to  the  government  of  the  universe, 
that  God  should  make  known  his  perpetual  and  irre- 

"  Dr.  Ogden,  in  his  second  sermon  "  On  the  Articles  of  the  Christian  Faith," 

with  admirable  acuteness  thus  addresses  the  opposers  of  that  Doctrine,  which  ac- 
counts for  the  confusion,  sin,  and  misery,  which  we  find  in  this  life  :  "  It  would  be 
severe  in  God,  you  think,  .to  degrade  us  to  such  a  sad  state  as  this,  for  the  otfence 
of  our  first  parents  :  but  you  can  allow  him  to  place  us  in  it  without  any  induce- 
ment. Are  our  calamities  lessened  for  not  being  ascribed  to  Adam  ?  If  your  con- 
dition be  unhappy,  is  it  not  still  unhappy,  whatever  was  the  occasion  ?  with  the 
aggravation  of  this  reflection,  that  if  it  was  as  good  as  it  was  at  first  designed^ 
there  seems  to  be  somewhat  the  less  reason  to  look  for  its  a^iendI^ent." 

VOL.  Ill,  yi 


242  THE    LIFE    OF 

1781.  concileable  detestation  of  moral  evil.  He  might  indeed 
^J^  punish,  and  punish  only  the  offenders  ;  but  as  the  end 
72.  of  punishment  is  not  revenge  of  crimes,  but  propaga- 
tion of  virtue,  it  was  more  becoming  the  Divine  clem- 
ency to  find  another  manner  of  proceeding,  less  destruc- 
tive to  man,  and  at  least  equally  powerful  to  promote 
goodness.  The  end  of  punishment  is  to  reclaim  and 
warn.  That  punishment  will  both  reclaim  and  warn, 
which  shews  evidently  such  abhorrence  of  sin  in  God, 
as  may  deter  us  from  it,  or  strike  us  with  dread  of  ven- 
geance when  we  have  committed  it.  This  is  effected 
by  vicarious  punishment.  Nothing  could  more  testify 
the  opposition  between  the  nature  of  God  and  moral 
evil,  or  more  amply  display  his  justice,  to  men  and  an- 
gels, to  all  orders  and  successions  of  beings,  than  that 
it  was  necessary  for  the  highest  and  purest  nature,  even 
for  Divinity  itself,  to  pacify  the  demands  of  vengeance, 
by  a  painful  death  ;  of  which  the  natural  effect  will  be, 
that  when  justice  is  appeased,  there  is  a  proper  place 
for  the  exercise  of  mercy  ;  and  that  such  propitiation 
shall  supply,  in  some  degree,  the  imperfections  of  our 
obedience,  and  the  inefficacy  of  our  repentance  :  for, 
obedience  and  repentance,  such  as  we  can  perform,  are 
still  necessary.  Our  Saviour  has  told  us,  that  he  did 
not  come  to  destroy  the  law  but  to  fulfil :  to  fulfil  the 
typical  law,  by  the  performance  of  what  those  types 
had  foreshewn  ;  and  the  moral  law,  by  precepts  of 
greater  purity  and  higher  exaltation.^* 

[Here  he  said,  "God  bless  you  with  it."  I  acknowl- 
edged myself  much  obliged  to  him  ;  but  I  begged  that 
he  would  go  on  as  to  the  propitiation  being  the  chief 
object  of  our  most  holy  faith.  He  then  dictated  this 
one  other  paragraph.] 

"  The  peculiar  doctrine  of  Christianity  is,  that  of  an 
universal  sacrifice,  and  perpetual  propitiation.  Othe-r 
prophets  only  proclaimed  the  will  and  the  threatenings 
of  God.     Christ  satisfied  his  justice." 

The  Reverend  Mr.  Palmer,^  Fellow  of  Queen VCol- 

*  This  unfortunate  person,  whose  full  name  was  Thomas  Fysche  Palmer,  after- 
wards went  to  Dundee,  in  Scotland,  where  be  officiated  as  minister  to  a  congrega- 


DR.   JOHNSON.  243 

lege,  Cambridge,  dined  with  us.     He  expressed  a  wish  i78i . 
that  a  better  provision   were  made  for  parish-clerks.  '^^ 
Johnson.    "  Yes,  Sir,  a  parish-clerk  should  be  a  man   72.  ' 
who  is  able  to  make  a  will,  or  write  a  letter  for  any  body 
in  the  parish." 

I  mentioned  Lord  Monboddo's  notion^  that  the  an- 
cient Egyptians,  with  all  their  learning,  and  all  their 
arts,  were  not  only  black,  but  woolly-haired.  Mr.  Pal- 
mer asked  how  did  it  appear  upon  examining  the  mum- 
mies l  Dr.  Johnson  approved  of  this  test. 

Although  upon  most  occasions  1  never  heard  a  more 
strenuous  advocate  for  the  advantages  of  wealth,  than 
Dr.  Johnson,  he  this  day,  I  know  not  from  what  caprice, 
took  the  other  side.  "  I  have  not  observed  (said  he) 
that  men  of  very  large  fortunes  enjoy  any  thing  extra- 
ordinary that  makes  happiness.  What  has  the  Duke  of 
Bedford  ?  What  has  the  Duke  of  Devonshire  ?  The  only 
great  instance  that  I  have  ever  known  of  the  enjoyment 
of  wealth  was,  that  of  Jamaica  Dawkins,  who  going  to 
visit  Palmyra,  and  hearing  that  the  way  was  infested 
by  robbers,  hired  a  troop  of  Turkish  horse  to  guard  him." 

Dr.  Gibbons,  the  Dissenting  minister,  being  men- 
tioned, he  said,  "  I  took  to  Dr.  Gibbons."  And  address- 
ing himself  to  Mr.  Charles  Dilly,  added,  "  I  shall  be 
glad  to  see  him.  Tell  him,  if  he'll  call  on  me,  and 
dawdle  over  a  dish  of  tea  in  an  afternoon,  I  shall  take 
it  kind." 

tion  of  the  sect  who  call  themselves  Unitarians,  from  a  notion  that  they  distinctively 
worship  ONE  God,  because  they  deny  the  mysterious  doctrine  of  the  Trinity. 
They  do  not  advert  that  the  great  body  of  the  Christian  Church  in  maintaining 
that  mystery,  maintain  also  the  Unity  of  the  Godhead  :  the  "  Trinity  in  Unity  ! 
—three  persons  and  one  God."  The  Church  humbly  adores  the  Divinity  as 
exhibited  in  the  holy  Scriptures.  The  Unitarian  sect  vainly  presumes  to  compre- 
hend and  define  the  Almighty.  Mr.  Palmer  having  heated  Ins  mind  with  poUtical 
speculations,became  so  much  dissatisfied  with  our  excellent  Constitution,  as  to  com- 
pose, publish,  and  circulate  writings,  which  were  found  to  be  so  seditious  and  dan- 
gerous, that  upon  being  found  guilty  by  a  Jur)'^,  the  Court  of  Justiciary  in  Scot- 
land sentenced  him  to  transportation  for  fourteen  vears.  A  loud  clamour  against 
this  sentence  was  made  by  some  Members  of  both  Houses  of  Parliament ;  but 
both  Houses  approved  of  it  by  a  great  majority  ;  and  he  v/as  conveyed  to  the  set- 
tlement for  convicts  in  New  South  Wales. 

[Mr.  T.  F.  Palmer  was  of  Queen's  College,  in  Cambridge,  where  he  took  the  de- 
gree of  Master  of  Arts  in  1772,  and  that  of  S.  T.  B.  in  1781.  He  died  on  his  rc> 
turn  from  Botany  Bay,  in  the  year  1803.    M.] 

*  Taken  from  Heredotus. 


244  THE    LIFE    OF 

178J.  The  Reverend  Mr.  Smith,  Vicar  of  Southill,  a  very 
^^  respectable  man,  with  a  very  agreeable  family,  sent  an 
72.  invitation  to  us  to  drink  tea.  1  remarked  Dr.  Johnson^s 
very  respectful  politeness.  Though  always  fond  of 
changing  the  scene,  he  said,  "  We  must  have  Mr.  Bil- 
ly's leave.  We  cannot  go  from  your  house,  Sir,  with- 
out your  permission."  We  all  went,  and  were  well  sat- 
isfied with  our  visit.  I  however  remember  nothing 
particular,  except  a  nice  distinction  which  Dr.  Johnson 
made  with  respect  to  the  power  of  memory,  maintain- 
ing that  fogetfulness  was  a  man's  own  fault.  "  To  re- 
member and  to  recollect  (said  he)  are  different  things. 
A  man  has  not  the  power  to  recollect  what  is  not  in  his 
mind  ;  but  when  a  thing  is  in  his  mind  he  may  remem- 
ber it." 

The  remark  was  occasioned  by  my  leaning  back  on  a 
chair,  which  a  little  before  I  had  perceived  to  be 
broken,  and  pleading  forgetfulness  as  an  excuse.  "  Sir, 
(said  he,)  its  being  broken  was  certainly  in  your  mind." 

When  1  observed  that  a  housebreaker  was  in  general 
very  timorous; — Johnson.  "No  wonder,  Sir;  he  is 
afraid  of  being  shot  getting  iuto  a  house,  or  hanged 
when  he  has  got  oul  of  it." 

He  told  us,  that  he  had  in  one  day  written  six  sheets 
of  a  translation  from  the  French  ;  adding,  "  1  should  be 
glad  to  see  it  now.  1  wish  that  1  had  copies  of  all  the 
pamphlets  written  against  me,  as  it  is  said  Pope  had. 
Had  1  known  that  1  should  make  so  much  noise  in  the 
world,  1  should  have  been  at  pains  to  collect  them.  1 
believe  there  is  hardly  a  day  in  which  there  is  not 
something  about  me  in  the  news-papers." 

On  Monday,  June  4,  we  all  went  to  Luton-Hoe,  to 
see  Lord  Bute's  magnificent  seat,  for  which  1  had  ob- 
tained a  ticket.  As  we  entered  the  park,  1  talked  in  a 
high  style  of  my  old  friendship  with  Lord  Mountstuart, 
and  said,  "  1  shall  probably  be  much  at  this  place." 
The  sage,  aware  of  human  vicissitudes,  gently  checked 
me  :  "  Don't  you  be  too  sure  of  that."  He  made  two 
or  three  peculiar  observations  ;  as  when  shewn  the  bo- 
tanical garden,  "  Is  not  eteri/  garden  a  botanical  gar- 
den ?"     When  told  that  there  was  a  shrubbery  to  the 


DR.   JOHNSON.  245 

extent  of  several  miles  :  "  That  is  making  a  very  foolish  '781. 
use  of  the  ground  ;  a  little  of  it  is  very  well."'    When  ^J^ 
it  was  proposed  that  we  should  walk  on  the  pleasure-    72. 
ground  ;  *'  Don't  let  us  fatigue  ourselves.     Why  should 
we  walk  there  ?  Here's  a  fine  tree,  let's  get  to  the  top 
of  it."     But  upon  the  whole,  he  was  very  much  pleas- 
ed.    He  said,  "  This  is  one  of  the  places  1  do  not 
regret  having  come  to  see.     It  is  a  very  stately  place, 
indeed  ;  in  the  house  magnificence  is  not  sacrificed  to 
convenience,  nor  convenience  to  magnificence.     The 
library  is  very  splendid  ;  the  dignity  of  the  rooms  is 
very  great ;  and  the  quantity  of  pictures  is  beyond  ex- 
pectation, beyond  hope." 

It  happened  without  any  previous  concert,  that  we 
visited  the  seat  of  Lord  Bute  upon  the  King's  birth- 
day ;  we  dined  and  drank  his  Majesty's  health  at  an 
inn,  in  the  village  of  Luton. 

In  the  evening  I  put  him  in  mind  of  his  promise  to 
favour  me  with  a  copy  of  his  celebrated  Letter  to  the 
Earl  of  Chesterfield,  and  he  was  at  last  pleased  to  com- 
ply with  this  earnest  request,  by  dictating  it  to  me 
from  his  memory  ;  for  he  believed  that  he  himself  had 
no  copy.  There  was  an  animated  glow  in  his  counte- 
nance while  he  thus  recalled  his  high-minded  indigna- 
tion. 

He  laughed  heartily  at  a  ludicrous  action  in  the 
Court  of  Session,  in  which  I  was  Counsel.  The  So- 
ciety of  Procurators,  or  Attornies,  entitled  to  practise 
in  the  inferiour  courts  at  Edinburgh,  had  obtained  a 
royal  charter,  in  which  they  had  taken  care  to  have 
their  ancient  designation  of  Procurators  changed  into 
that  of  Solicitors,  from  a  notion,  as  they  supposed, 
that  it  was  more  genteel ;  and  this  new  title  they  dis- 
played by  a  publick  advertisement  for  a  General  Meet" 
ing  at  their  Hall. 

It  has  been  said,  that  the  Scottish  nation  is  not  dis- 
tinguished for  humour  ;  and,  indeed,  what  happened 
on  this  occasion  may  in  some  degree  justify  the  remark  ; 
for  although  this  society  had  contrived  to  make  them- 
selves a  very  prominent  object  for  the  ridicule  of  such 
as  might  stoop  to  it,  the  only  joke  to  which  it  gave  rise, 


946  THE    LIFE   OP 

1781.  was  the  following  paragraph,  sent  to  the  newspapei- 
^g^  called  "  The  Caledonian  Mercury" 
72,  "  A  correspondent  infornis  us,  that  the  Worshipful 
Society  of  Chaldeans^  Cadies^  or  Running-Stationers  of 
this  city  are  resolved,  in  imitation,  and  encouraged  by 
the  singular  success  of  their  brethern,  of  an  equally 
respectable  Society,  to  apply  for  a  Charter  of  their 
Privileges,  particularly  of  the  sole  privilege  of  pro- 
curing, in  the  most  extensive  sense  of  the  word,  ex- 
clusive of  chairmen,  porters,  penny-post  men,  and 
other  inferiour  ranks  ;  their  brethren  the  R — y — l 
S — LL — RS,  alias  P — c — rs,  before  the  inferiour 
Courts  of  this  City,  always  excepted. 

"  Should  the  Worshipful  Society  be  successful,  they 
are  farther  resolved  not  to  be  puffed  up  thereby,  but  to 
demean  themselves  with  more  equanimity  and  decency 
than  their  R-y-l,  learned^  and  very  modest  brethren 
above  mentioned  have  done,  upon  their  late  dignifica- 
tion  and  exaltation." 

A  majority  of  the  members  of  the  Society  prosecuted 
Mr.  Robertson,  the  publisher  of  the  paper,  for  damages  : 
and  the  first  judgement  of  the  whole  Court  very  wisely 
dismissed  the  action  :  Solventur  risu  tabuke,  tu  missus 
abibis.  But  a  new  trial  or  review  was  granted  upon  a 
petition,  according  to  the  forms  in  Scotland.  This  pe- 
tition I  was  engaged  to  answer,  and  Dr.  Johnson,  with 
great  alacrity  furnished  me  this  evening  with  what 
follows  : 

"  All  injury  is  either  of  the  person,  the  fortune,  or 
the  fame.  Now  it  is  a  certain  thing,  it  is  proverbially 
known,  that  a  jest  breaks  no  bones.  They  never  have 
gained  half-a-crown  less  in  the  whole  profession  since 
this  mischievous  paragraph  has  appeared  ;  and,  as  to 
their  reputation,  what  is  their  reputation  but  an  instru- 
ment of  getting  money  ?  If,  therefore,  they  have  lost 
no  money,  the  question  upon  reputation  may  be  an- 
swered by  a  very  old  position, — De  mitiimis  non  curat 
Prcetor. 

"  Whether  there  was,  or  was  not,  an  animus  injuran- 
di^ is  not  worth  enquiring,  if  no  injuria  can  be  proved. 
But  the  truth  is,  there  was  no  animus  injuriandi.     It 


DR.   JOHNSON.  247 

was  only  an  animus  irritandi,^  which,  happening  to  be  ^781. 
exercised  upon  a  getms  irritabiie,  produced  unexpect-  "^^^ 
ed  violence  of  resentment.      Their   irritability    arose    72. ' 
only  from   an   opinion  of  their  own  importance,  and 
their  delight  in   their  new  exaltation.      What  might 
have  been  borne  by  a  Procurator  could  not  be  borne 
by  a  Solicitor.     Your  Lordships   well  know,  that  ho- 
nores  mutant  mores.     Titles  and  dignities  play  strongly 
on  the  fancy.     As  a  madman   is  apt  to  think  himself 
grown  suddenly  great,  so  he  that  grows  suddenly  great 
is  apt  to  borrow  a  little  from  the  madman.     To  co-op- 
erate with  their  resentment  would  be  to  promote  their 
phrenzy  ;  nor  is  it  possible  to  guess  to  what  they  might 
proceed,  if  to  the  new  title  of  Solicitor,  should  be  added 
the  elation  of  victory  and  triumph. 

"  We  consider  your  Lordships  as  the  protectors  of 
our  rights,  and  the  guardians  of  our  virtues  ;  but 
believe  it  not  included  in  your  high  office,  that  you 
should  flatter  our  vices,  or  solace  our  vanity  ;  and,  as 
vanity  only  dictates  this  prosecution,  it  is  humbly 
hoped  your  Lordships  will  dismiss  it. 

"  If  every  attempt,  however  light  or  ludicrous,  to 
lessen  another's  reputation,  is  to  be  punished  by  a 
judicial  sentence,  what  punishment  can  be  sufficiently 
severe  for  him  who  attempts  to  diminish  the  reputation 
of  the  Supreme  Court  of  Justice,  by  reclaiming  upon  a 
cause  already  determined,  without  any  change  in  the 
state  of  the  question  ?  Does  it  not  imply  in  hopes 
that  the  Judges  will  change  their  opinion  ?  Is  not 
uncertainty  and  inconstancy  in  the  highest  degree  dis- 
reputable to  a  Court  ?  Does  it  not  suppose,  that  the 
former  judgement  was  temerarious  or  negligent  ?  Does 
it  not  lessen  the  confidence  of  the  publick  \  Will  it  not 
be  said,  that  jus  est  aut  incognitum^  aut  vagum  ?  and 
will  not  the  consequence  be  drawn,  misera  est  servifus  / 
Will  not  the  rules  of  action  be  obscure  !  Will  not  he 
Avho  knows  himself  wrong  to-day,  hope  that  the  Courts 
of  Justice  will   think  him  right  to-morrow  ?  Surely, 


'  Mr.  Robertson  altered  this  werd  to  jtiarn/i,  he  having  found  in  Blackstofle 
t  bat  to  irritate  is  actionable. 


i248  THE    LIFE    OF 

1781.  my  Lords,  these  are  attempts  of  dangerous  tendenc} 
^J^  which  the  Sohcitors,  as  men  versed  in  the  law,  should 
72.  have  foreseen  and  avoided.  It  was  natural  for  an  ig- 
norant printer  to  appeal  from  the  Lord  Ordinary  ;  but 
from  lawyers,  the  descendants  of  lawyers,  who  have 
practised  for  three  hundred  years,  and  have  now  raised 
themselves  to  a  higher  denomination,  it  might  be  ex- 
pected, that  they  should  know  the  reverence  due  to  a 
judicial  determination  ;  and,  having  been  once  dismiss- 
ed, should  sit  down  in  silence." 

I  am  ashamed  to  mention,  that  the  Court,  by  a 
plurality  of  voices,  without  having  a  single  additional 
circumstance  before  them,  reversed  their  own  judge- 
ment, made  a  serious  matter  of  this  dull  and  foolish 
joke,  and  adjudged  Mr.  Robertson  to  pay  to  the  Soci- 
ety five  pounds  (sterling  money)  and  costs  of  suit.  The 
decision  will  seem  strange  to  English  lawyers. 

On  Tuesday,  June  5,  Johnson  was  to  return  to  Lon- 
don. He  was  very  pleasant  at  breakfast  ;  1  mentioned 
a  friend  of  mine  having  resolved  never  to  marry  a  pretty 
woman.  Johnson.  "  Sir,  it  is  a  very  foolish  resolu- 
tion to  resolve  not  to  marry  a  pretty  woman.  Beauty 
is  of  itself  very  estimable.  No,  Sir,  1  would  prefer  a 
pretty  woman,  unless  there  are  objections  to  her.  A 
pretty  woman  may  be  foolish  ;  a  pretty  woman  may 
be  wicked  ;  a  pretty  woman  may  not  like  me.  But 
there  is  no  such  danger  in  marrying  a  pretty  woman  as 
is  apprehended  ;  she  will  not  be  persecuted  if  she  does 
not  invite  persecution.  A  pretty  woman,  if  she  has  a 
mind  to  be  wicked,  can  find  a  readier  way  than  an- 
other ;  and  that  is  all." 

1  accompanied  him  in  Mr.  Dilly's  chaise  to  ShefFord, 
where  talking  of  Lord  Bute's  never  going  to  Scotland, 
he  said,  "  As  an  Englishman,  1  should  wish  all  the 
Scotch  gentlemen  should  be  educated  in  England  ; 
Scotland  would  become  a  province  ;  they  would  spend 
all  their  rents  in  England."  This  is  a  subject  of  much 
consequence,  and  much  delicacy.  The  advantage  of 
an  English  education  is  unquestionably  very  great  to 
Scotch  gentlemen  of  talents  and  ambition  ;  and  regular 
visits  to  Scotland,  and  perhaps  other  means,  might  be 


I 


DR.   JOHNSON.  249 

effectually  used  to  prevent  them  from  being  totally  ^7bi. 
estranged  from  their  native  country,  any  more  than  a  ^^^ 
Cumberland  or  Northumberland  gentleman,  who  has   72.  * 
been  educated  in  the  South  of  England.     1  own,  in- 
deed, that  it  is  no  small  misfortune  for  Scotch  gentle- 
men,  who   have    neither  talents   nor   ambition,    to   be 
educated  in  England,  where  they  may  be  perhaps  dis- 
tinguished only  by  a  nick-name,  lavish  their  fortune  in 
giving  expensive  entertainments  to  those  who  laugh  at 
them,   and    saunter  about  as   mere    idle    insignificant 
hangers-on  even  upon  the  foolish  great  ;  when  if  they 
had  been  judiciously  brought  up  at  home,  they  might 
have    been    comfortable    and   creditable    members   of 
society. 

At  ShefFord  I  had  another  affectionate  parting  from 
my  reverend  friend,  who  was  taken  up  by  the  Bedford 
coach  and  carried  to  the  metropolis.  1  went  with 
Messieurs  Dilly,  to  see  some  friends  at  Bedford  ;  dined 
with  the  officers  of  the  militia  of  the  county,  and  next 
day  proceeded  on  my  journey. 

"  TO  BENNET  LANGTON,  ESQ. 
"  DEAR  SIR, 

"  How  welcome  your  account  of  yourself  and 
your  invitation  to  your  new  house  was  to  me,  1  need 
not  tell  you,  who  consider  our  friendship  not  only  as 
formed  by  choice,  but  as  matured  by  time.  We  have 
been  now  long  enough  acquainted  to  have  many  im- 
ages in  common,  and  therefore  to  have  a  source  of  con- 
versation which  neither  the  learning  nor  the  wit  of  a 
new  companion  can  supply. 

"  My  Lives  are  now  published  ;  and  if  you  will  tell 
me  whither  1  shall  send  them,  that  they  may  come  to 
you,  1  will  take  care  that  you  shall  not  be  without 
them. 

"  You  will,  perhaps,  be  glad  to  hear,  that  Mrs. 
Thrale  is  disincumbered  of  her  brewhouse  ;  and  that 
it  seemed  to  the  purchaser  so  far  from  an  evil,  that  he 
was  content  to  give  for  it  an  hundred  and  thirty-five 
thousand  pounds.     Is  the  nation  ruined  ? 

VOL.  III.  39 


250  THE    LIFE    OF 

1781.      <'  Please    to  make  my   respectful    compliments   to 
^g^  Lady  Rothes,  and  keep  me   in   the  memory  of  all  the 
72.    little  dear  family,  particularly  Mrs.  Jane. 
"  1  am,  Sir, 

"  Your  affectionate  humble  servant, 
"  Bolt'coari^  June.  16,  1781.         "  Sam.  Johnson." 

Johnson's  charity  to  the  poor  was  uniform  and  ex- 
tensive, both  from  inclination  and  principle.     He  not 
only  bestowed  liberally  out  of  his  own  purse,  but  what 
is  more  difficult  as  well  as  rare,  would  beg  from  others, 
^  when  he  had  proper  objects  in  view.     This  he  did  ju- 

diciously as  well  as  humanely.  Mr.  Philip  Metcalfe, 
tells  me,  that  when  he  has  asked  him  for  some  money 
for  p' rsoiis  in  distress,  and  Mr.  Metcalfe  has  offered 
what  Johnson  thought  too  much,  he  insisted  on  taking 
less,  saying  "  No,  no.  Sir ;  we  must  not  pamper  them." 
1  am  indebted  to  Mr.  Malone,  one  of  Sir  Joshua 
Reynolds's  executors,  for  the  following  note,  which  was 
found  among  his  papers  after  his  death,  and  which,  we 
may  presume,  his  unaffected  modesty  prevented  him 
from  communicating  to  me  with  the  other  letters  from 
Dr.  Johnson  with  which  he  was  pleased  to  furnish  me. 
However  slight  in  itself,  as  it  does  honour  to  that  illus- 
trious painter,  and  most  amiable  man,  I  am  happy  to 
introduce  it. 

"  TO  SIR  JOSHUA  REYNOLDS. 
"  DEAR  SIR, 

"  It  was  not  before  yesterday  that  T  received  your 
splendid  benefaction.     To  a  hand  so  liberal  in  distrib- 
uting, 1  hope  nobody  will  envy  the  power  of  acquiring. 
"  1  am,  dear  Sir, 

"  Your  obliged  and  most  humble  servant, 
"  June  23,  1781.  "  Sam.  Johnson." 

"  TO  THOMAS    ASTLE,  ESQ. 
"  SIR, 

"I  AM  ashamed  that  you  have  been  forced  to  call 
so  often  for  your  books,  but  it  has  been  by  no  fault  on 


DR.    JOHNSON.  '251 

either  side.     They  have  never  been  out  of  my  hands,  '/^i. 
nor  have  1  ever  been  at  home  without  seeing  you  ;  for  ^,'.^ 
to  see  a  man  so  skilful  in  the  antiquities  of  my  country,   72. 
is  an  opportunity  of  improvement  not  wiUingly  to  be 
missed. 

"  Your  notes  on  Alfred^  appear  to  me  very  judicious 
and  accurate,  but  they  are  too  few.  Many  things  fa- 
mihar  to  you,  are  unknown  to  me,  and  to  most  others  ; 
and  you  must  not  think  too  favourably  of  your  readers  ; 
by  supposing  them  knowing,  you  will  leave  them  igno- 
rant. Measure  of  land,  and  value  of  money,  it  is  of 
great  importance  to  state  with  care.  Had  the  Saxons 
any  gold  coin  ? 

"  I  have  much  curiosity  after  the  manners  and  trans- 
actions of  the  middle  ages,  but  have  wanted  either 
diligence  or  opportunity,  or  both.  You,  Sir,  have  gnat 
opportunities,  and  1  wish  you  both  diligence  and 
success. 

"  1  am,  Sir,  &c. 
"  Ju/i/  17,  17s  1.  "  Sam.  Johnson." 

The  following  curious  anecdote  1  insert  in  Dr.  Bur- 
ney's  own  words.  "  Dr.  Burney  related  to  Dr.  John- 
son the  partiality  which  his  writings  had  excited  in  a 
friend  of  Dr.  Burney's,  the  late  Mr.  Bewley,  well 
known  in  Norfolk  by  the  name  of  the  Philosopher  of 
Massinorham  :  who,  from  the  Ramblers  and  Plan  of 
his  Dictionary,  and  long  before  the  authour's  fame  was 
established  by  the  Dictionary  itself,  or  any  other  work, 
had  conceived  such  a  reverence  for  him,  that  he  earn- 
estly begged  Dr.  Burney  to  give  him  the  cover  of  his 
first  letter  he  had  received  from  him,  as  a  relick  of  so 
estimable  a  writer.  This  was  in  17^>5.  In  1760, 
when  Dr.  Burney  visited  Dr.  Johnson  at  the  Temple 
in  London,  where  he  had  then  Chambers,  he  happ^^ned 
to  arrive  there  before  he  was  up  ;  and  being  shewn 
into  the  room  where  he  was  to  breakfast,  finding  him- 
self alone,  he  examined  the  contents  of  the  apartment, 

^  The  Will  of  King  Alfred,  alluded  to  iu  this  letter,  from  the  originkl  Saxon,  in 
the  library  of  Mr.  Astle,  has  been  printed  at  the  expence  of  the  University  of 
Oxford. 


252  THE    LIFE    OF 

1/81.  to  try  whether  he  could  undiscovered  steal  any  thing 
Mt^.  ^^  ^^"^  ^^  '^'s  friend  Bewley,  as  another  relick  of  the 
72.  admirable  Dr.  Johnson.  But  finding  nothing  better  to 
his  purpose,  he  cut  some  bristles  off  his  hearth-broom, 
and  enclosed  them  in  a  letter  to  his  country  enthusiast, 
who  received  them  with  due  reverence.  The  Doctor 
was  so  sensible  of  the  honour  done  him  by  a  man  of 
genius  and  science,  to  whom  he  was  an  utter  stranger, 
that  he  said  to  Dr.  Burney,  '  Sir,  there  is  no  man  pos- 
sessed of  the  smallest  portion  of  modesty,  but  must  be 
fl  ittered  with  the  admiration  of  such  a  man.  I'll  give 
him  a  set  of  my  Lives,  if  he  will  do  me  the  honour  to 
accept  of  them.'  In  this  he  kept  his  word  ;  and  Dr. 
Burney  had  not  only  the  pleasure  of  gratifying  his 
friend  with  a  present  more  worthy  of  his  acceptance 
than  the  segment  from  the  hearth-broom,  but  soon  after 
introducing  him  to  Dr.  Johnson  himself  in  Bolt-court, 
■with  whom  he  had  the  satisfaction  of  conversing  a  con- 
siderable time,  not  a  fortnight  before  his  death  ;  which 
happened  in  St.  Martin's-street,  during  his  visit  to  Dr. 
Burney,  in  the  house  where  the  great  Sir  Isaac  Newton 
had  lived  and  died  before." 

In  one  of  his  little  memorandum  books  is  the  follow- 
ing minute  ; 

'■  i\ugust  9,  3  P.  M.  aetat.  72,  in  the  summer-house 
at  Streatham. 

"After  innumerable  resolutions  formed  and  neglect- 
ed, 1  have  retired  hither,  to  plan  a  life  of  greater  dili- 
gence, in  hope  that  1  may  yet  be  useful,  and  be  daily 
better  prepared  to  appear  before  my  Oeator  and  my 
Judge,  from  whose  infinite  mercy  1  humbly  call  for  as* 
sistance  and  support. 

"•  J\ly  purpose  is, 

"  To  pass  eight  hours  every  day  in  some  serious  em- 
ployment. 

"  Having  prayed,  1  purpose  to  employ  the  next  six 
weeks  upon  the  Italian  language,  for  my  settled  study." 

JJow  venerably  pious  does  he  appear  in  these  mo- 
ments of  solitude,  and  how  spirited  are  his  resolutions 
for  the  improvement  of  his  mind,  even  in  elegant  lite- 


DR.   JOHNSON.  26S 

rature,  at  a  very  advanced  period  of  life,  and  when  af-  ^782. 
flicted  with  many  complaints.  Stat! 

In  autumn  he* went  to  Oxford,  Birmingham,  Lich-  73.* 
field,  and  Ashbourne,  for  which  very  good  reasons 
might  be  given  in  the  conjectural  yet  positive  manner 
of  writers,  who  are  proud  to  account  for  every  event 
which  they  relate.  He  himself,  however,  says,  "  The 
motives  of  my  journey  I  hardly  know  ;  1  omitted  it 
last  year,  and  am  not  willing  to  miss  it  again. "9  But 
some  good  considerations  arise,  amongst  which  is  the 
kindly  recollection  of  Mr.  Hector,  surgeon  of  Birming- 
ham. "  Hector  is  likewise  an  old  friend,  the  only  com- 
panion of  my  childhood  that  passed  through  the  school 
with  me.  We  have  always  loved  one  another  ;  perhaps 
we  may  be  made  better  by  some  serious  conversation, 
of  which  however  1  have  no  distinct  hope." 

He  says  too,  "  At  Lichfield,  my  native  place,  I  hope 
to  shew  a  good  example  by  frequent  attendance  on  pub- 
lick  worship." 

My  correspondence  with  him  during  the  rest  of  this 
year  was,  I  know  not  why,  very  scanty,  and  all  on  my 
side.  I  wrote  him  one  letter  to  introduce  Mr.  Sinclair 
(now  Sir  John)  the  member  for  Caithness,  to  his  ac- 
quaintance ;  and  informed  him  in  another,  that  my 
wife  had  again  been  affected  with  alarming  symptoms  of 
illness. 

In  1782,  his  complaints  increased,  and  the  history  of 
his  life  this  year,  is  little  more  than  a  mournful  recital 
of  the  variations  of  his  illness,  in  the  midst  of  which, 
however,  it  will  appear  from  his  letters,  that  the  powers 
of  his  mind  were  in  no  degree  impaired. 

"  TO  JAMES  BOSWELL,  ESQ. 
"  DEAR  SIR, 

*'  I  SIT  down  to  answer  your  letter  on  the  same 
day  in  which  I  received  it,  and  am  pleased  that  my  first 
letter  of  the  year  is  to  you.  No  man  ought  to  be  at 
ease  while  he  knows  himself  in  the  wrong ;  and  Ihave 

'  Prayers  and  Meditations,  p.  201. 


254  THE    LIFE    OF 

1782.  not  satisfied  myself  with  my  long  silence.     The  letter 
jEi^^  relating  to  Mr.  Sinclair  however,  was,  1  believe,  never 
73.    brought. 

"  My  health  has  been  tottering  this  last  year :  and  I 
can  give  no  very  laudable  account  of  my  time.  I  aln 
always  hoping  to  do  better  than  1  have  ever  hitherto 
done. 

"  My  journey  to  Ashbourne  and  Staffordshire  was 
not  pheasant  ;  for  what  enjoyment  has  a  sick  man  visit- 
ing the  sick  ? — Shall  we  ever  have  another  frolick  like 
our  journey  to  the  Hebrides  ? 

"  I  hope  that  dear  Mrs.  Boswell  will  surmount  her 
complaints  ;  in  losing  her  you  will  lose  your  anchor, 
and  be  tost,  without  stability,  by  the  waves  of  life.' 
I  wish  both  her  and  you  very  many  years,  and  very 
happy. 

"  For  some  months  past  T  have  been  so  withdrawn 
from  the  world,  that  I  can  send  you  nothing  particular. 
All  your  friends,  however,  are  well,  and  will  be  glad  of 
your  return  to  London.     1  am,  dear  Sir, 

"  Yours  most  affectionately, 
*■'-  January  5,  17B2.  "  Sam.  Johnson.^* 

At  a  time  when  he  was  less  able  than  he  had  once 
been  to  sustain  a  shock,  he  was  suddenly  deprived  of 
Mr.  Levet,  which  event  he  thus  communicated  to  Dr. 
Lawrence. 

"sir, 

"  Our  old  friend,  Mr.  Levet,  who  was  last  night 
eminently  cheerful,  died  this  morning.  The  man  who 
lay  in  the  same  room,  hf^aring  an  uncommon  noise,  got 
up  and  tried  to  make  him  speak,  but  without  effect. 
He  then  called  Mr.  Holder,  the  apothecary,  who, 
though  when  he  came  he  thought  him  dead,  opened  a 
vein,  but  could  draw  no  blood.  So  has  ended  the  long 
life  of  a  very  useful  and  very  blameless  man.  1  am.  Sir, 
"  Your  most  humble  servant, 
"  Jan.  17,  1782.  "  Sam.  Johnson." 

'  The  truth  of  this  has  been  proved  by  sad  experience. 
(Mrs.  Boswell  died  June  4,  1789.    M.] 


DR.   JOHNSON.  255 

In  one  of  his  memorandum-books  in  my  possession,  is  ^782. 
the   following  entry  :  January   20,    Sunday.      Robert  J^^ 
Levet  was  buried  in  the  church-yard  of  Bridewell,  be-    73. 
tween   one  and   two   in    the   afternoon.     He   died  on 
Thursday  17,  about  seven  in  the  morning,  by  an  instan- 
taneous death.     He  was  an  old  and  faithful  friend  ;  I 
have  known  him   from  about  46.     Conimendavi.     May 
God  have  mercy  on  him.     May  he  have  mercy  on  me.^' 

Such  was  Johnson's  affectionate  regard  for  Levet, ^ 
that  he  honoured  his  memory  with  the  following  paliiet- 
ick  verses  ; 

"  Condemned  to  Hope's  delusive  mine, 

"  As  on  we  toil  from  day  to  day, 
"  By  sudden  blast  or  slow  decline 

"  Our  social  comforts  drop  away. 

"  Well  try'd  through  many  a  varying  year, 

"  See  Levet  to  the  grave  descend ; 
"  Officious,  innocent,  sincere, 

"  Of  every  friendless  name  the  friend. 

"  Yet  still  he  fills  Affection's  eye, 

"  Obscurely  wise,  and  coarsely  kind, 
"  Nor,  letter'd  arrogance,  3  deny 

"  Thy  praise  to  merit  unrefin'd. 

"  When  fainting  Nature  calPd  for  aid, 
"  And  hov'ring  Death  prepared  the  blovr, 

"  His  vigorous  remedy  display'd 

"  The  power  of  art  without  the  show. 

"  In  Misery's  darkest  caverns  known, 

"  His  ready  help  was  ever  nigh, 
"  Where  hopeless  Anguish  pour'd  his  groan, 

"  And  lonely  Want  retir'd  to  die.-^ 

2  See  an  account  of  him  in  "  The  Gentleman's  Magazine,"  Feb.  1 785. 

3  In  both  editions  of  Sir  John  Hawkins's  Life  of  Dr.  Johnson,  *♦  letter'd  Ignorance^' 
is  printed. 

••  Johnson  repeated  this  line  to  me  thus  : 

"  And  Labour  steals  an  hour  to  die." 
But  he  afterwards  altered  it  to  the  present  reading. 


QSG  THE    LIFE    OF 

1782.       "  No  summons  mock'd  by  chill  delay^ 
£ut  "  ^^  P^^^y  gains  disdain'd  by  pride  ; 

73,  *      "  The  modest  wants  of  every  day 
"  The  toil  of  every  day  supply^d. 

"  His  virtues  walkM  their  narrow  round, 
"  Nor  made  a  pause,  nor  left  a  void  ; 

"  And  sure  the  eternal  Master  found 
"  His  single  talent  well  employed. 

'%The  busy  day,  the  peaceful  night, 

"  Unfelt,  uncounted,  glided  by  ; 
"  His  frame  was  firm,  his  powers  were  bright, 

"  Though  now  his  eightieth  year  was  nigh. 

"  Then,  with  no  throbs  of  fiery  pain, 

"  No  cold  gradations  of  decay, 
"  Death  broke  at  once  the  vital  chain, 

"  And  freed  his  soul  the  nearest  way." 

In  one  of  Johnson's  registers  of  this  year,  there 
occurs  the  following  curious  [)assage  :  "  Jan.  20.  The 
Ministry  is  dissolved.  I  prayed  with  Francis,  and  gave 
thanks."'  It  has  been  the  subject  of  discussion, 
whether  there  are  two  distinct  particulars  mentioned 
here  ?  Or  that  we  are  to  understand  the  giving  of 
thanks  to  be  in  consequence  of  the  dissolution  of  the 
Ministry  ?  In  support  of  the  last  of  these  conjectures 
may  be  urged  his  mean  opinion  of  that  Ministry,  which 
has  frequently  appeared  in  the  course  of  this  work  ; 
and  it  is  strongly  confirmed  by  what  he  said  on  the 
subject  to  Mr.  Seward  : — "  I  am  glad  the  ministry  is 
removed.  Such  a  bunch  of  imbecility  never  disgraced 
a  country.  If  they  sent  a  messenger  into  the  City  to 
take  up  a  printer,  the  messenger  vA^as  taken  up  instead 
of  the  printer,  and  committed  by  the  sitting  Alderman. 
If  they  sent  one  army  to  the  relief  of  another,  the  first 
army  was  defeated  and  taken  before  the  second  arrived. 
I  will  not  say  that  what  they  did  was  always  wrong ; 
but  it  was  always  done  at  a  wrong  time." 

'■Prayers  and  Meditations,  p.  209. 


DR.   JOHNSON.  257 

1782. 

"  TO  MRS.   STRAHAN.  ^MtaX. 

73. 
"  DEAR  MADAM, 

"  Mrs.  Williams  shewed  me  your  kind  letter. 
This  Httle  habitation  is  now  but  a  melancholy  place^ 
clouded  with  the  gloom  of  disease  and  death.  Of  the 
four  inmates,  one  has  been  suddenly  snatched  away  ; 
two  are  oppressed  by  very  afflictive  and  dangerous  ill- 
ness ;  and  1  tried  yesterday  to  gain  some  relief  by  a 
third  bleeding,  from  a  disorder  which  has  for  some  time 
distressed  me,  and  1  think  myself  to-day  much  better. 
"  1  am  glad,  dear  Madam,  to  hear  that  you  are  so 
far  recovered  as  to  go  to  Bath.  Let  me  once  more 
entreat  you  to  stay  till  your  health  is  not  only  obtain- 
ed, but  confirmed.  Your  fortune  is  such  as  that  no 
moderate  expences  deserves  your  care  ;  and  you  have 
a  husband,  who,  I  believe,  does  not  regard  it.  Stay, 
therefore,  till  you  are  quite  well.  1  am,  for  my  part, 
very  much  deserted  ;  but  complaint  is  useless.  1  hope 
God  will  bless  you,  and  I  desire  you  to  form  the  same 
wish  for  me.     1  am,  dear  Madam, 

"  Your  most  humble  servant, 
"  Feb.  4,  1782.  "  Sam.  Johnson.^' 

*'  to  edmond  malone,  esq. 

"  SIR, 

"  I  HAVE  for  many  weeks  been  so  much  out  of 
•rder,  that  I  have  gone  out  only  in  a  coach  to  Mrs. 
Thrale's,  where  1  can  use  all  the  freedom  that  sickness 
requires.  Do  not,  therefore,  take  it  amiss,  that  I  am 
not  with  you  and  Dr.  Farmer.  1  hope  hereafter  to  see 
you  often.     1  am,  Sir, 

"  Your  most  humble  servant, 
"  Feb.  27,  1782.  "  Sam.  Johnson." 

"  TO  THE  SAME. 
"  DEAR  SIR, 

"  I  HOPE  I  grow  better,  and  shall  soon  be  able  to 
enjoy  the  kindness  of  my  friends.     1  think  this  wild 
VOL.  III.  33 


-236 


THE    LIFE    OP 


^782.  adherence  to  Chatterton'^   more   unaccountable   than 

iEtat.  ^^^  obstinate  defence  of  Ossian,     In  Ossian  there  is  a 

73.    national  pride,  which  may  be  forgiven,  though  it  cannot 

be  applauded.     In  Chatterton  there  is  nothing  but  the 

resolution  to  say  again  what  has  once  been  said.     I  am. 

Sir, 

"  Your  humble  servant, 
"  March  2,  1782.  "  Sam.  Johnson." 

These  short  letters  shew  the  regard  which  Dr.  John- 
son entertained  for  Mr.  Malone,  who  the  more  he  is 
known  is  the  more  highly  valued.  It  is  much  to  be 
regretted  that  Johnson  was  prevented  from  sharing  the 
elegant  hospitality  of  that  gentleman's  table,  at  which 
he  would  in  every  respect  have  been  fully  gratified. 
Mr.  Malone,  who  has  so  ably  succeeded  him  as  an  Ed- 
itor of  Shakspeare,  has,  in  his  Preface,  done  great  and 
just  honour  to  Johnson's  memory. 

"  TO  MRS.  LUCY  PORTER,    IN  LICHFIELD. 
"  DEAR  MADAM, 

"  1  WENT  away  from  Lichfield  ill,  and  have  had  a 
troublesome  time  with  my  breath  ;  for  some  weeks  I 
have  been  disordered  by  a  cold,  of  which  I  could  not 
get  the  violence  abated,  till  I  had  been  let  blood  three 
times.  I  have  not,  however,  been  so  bad  but  that  I 
could  have  written,  and  am  sorry  that  I  neglected  it. 

"  My  dwelling  is  but  melancholy  ;  both  Williams, 
and  Desmoulins,  and  myself,  are  very  sickly  :  Frank  is 
not   well  ;  and   poor  Levet  died  in  his  bed  the  other 

'  [This  Note  was  in  answer  to  one  which  accompanied  one  of  the  earliest  pam- 
phlets on  the  subject  of  Chatterton'sforjifery: entitled ''Cursory  Observations  on  the 
Poems  attributed  to  Thomas  Rowley,"  &c.  Mr.  Thomas  Warton's  very  able  "  In- 
quiry" appeared  about  three  months  afterwards  :  and  Mr.  Tyrwhitt's  admirable 
"  Vindication  of  his  Appendix  "  in  the  summer  of  the  same  vear,  left  the  believers 
in  his  daring  imposture  nothing  but  "  the  resolution  to  say  again  what  had  been 
said  before  "  Daring,  however,  as  this  fiction  was,  and  wild  as  was  the  adherence 
to  Chatterton,  both  were  greatly  exceeded  in  1795  and  the  following  year,  by  a 
still  more  audacious  imposture,  and  the  pertinacity  of  one  of  its  adherents,  who 
has  immortalized  his  name  by  publishing  a  bulky  volume,  of  which  the  direct  and 
manifest  object  was,  to  prove  the  authenticity  of  certain  papers  attributed  to  Shak- 
speare, after  the  fabricator  of  the  spurious  trash  had  publickly  acknowledged  the 
imposture !     M.] 


DR.   JOHNSON.  !3o9 

day,  by  a  sudden  stroke  ;  I  suppose  not  one  minute  i782. 
passed  between  health  and  death  ;  so  uncertain  are  ^"T 
human  things.  73_  * 

"  Such  is  the  appearance  of  the  world  about  me  ;  1 
hope  your  scenes  are  more  cheerful.  But  whatever 
befalls  us,  though  it  is  wise  to  be  serious,  it  is  useless 
and  foolish,  and  perhaps  sinful,  to  be  gloomy.  Let  us, 
therefore,  keep  ourselves  as  easy  as  we  can  ;  though 
the  loss  of  friends  will  be  felt,  and  poor  Levet  had 
been  a  faithful  adherent  for  thirty  years. 

"  Forgive  me,  my  dear  love,  the  omission  of  writing; 
I  hope  to  mend  that  and  my  other  faults.  Let  me 
have  your  prayers. 

"  Make  my  compliments  to  Mrs.  Cobb,  and  Miss 
Adey,  and  Mr.  Pearson,  and  the  whole  company  of 
my  friends.     1  am,  my  dear, 

"  Your  most  humble  servant, 
"  London^  March  2,  1782.  "  Sam.  Johnson.^^ 

"  to  the  same. 

"  dear  madam, 

"  My  last  was  but  a  dull  letter,  and  I  know  not 
that  this  will  be  much  more  cheerful  ;  1  am,  however, 
willing  to  write,  because  you  are  desirous  to  hear 
from  me. 

"  My  disorder  has  now  begun  its  ninth  week,  for  it 
is  not  yet  over.  1  was  last  Thursday  blooded  for  the 
fourth  time,  and  have  since  found  myself  much  reliev- 
ed, but  1  am  very  tender  and  easily  hurt ;  so  that  since 
we  parted  I  have  had  but  little  comfort,  but  I  hope 
that  the  spring  will  recover  me  ;  and  that  in  the  sum- 
mer I  shall  see  Lichfield  again,  for  1  will  not  delay  my 
visit  another  year  to  the  end  of  autumn. 

"  I  have,  by  advertising,  found  poor  Mr.  Levet*s 
brothers  in  Yorkshire,  who  will  take  the  little  he  has 
left :  it  is  but  little,  yet  it  will  be  welcome,  for  1  beUeve 
they  are  of  very  low  condition. 

"  To  be  sick,  and  to  see  nothing  but  sickness  and 
death,  is  but  a  gloomy  state  ;  but  1  hope  better  times, 
even  in  this  world,  will  come,  and  whatever  this  world 


200  THE    LIFE    OF 

1782.  may  withhold  or  give,  we  shall  be  happy  in  a  better 
2J^  state.     Pray  for  me,  my  dear  Lucy. 
73.        "  Make   my  compliments  to  Mrs.  Cobb,  and  Miss 
Adey,  and  my  old  friend,  Hetty  Bailey,  and  to  all  the 
Lichfield  ladies.     1  am,  dear  Madam, 

"  Yours  affectionately, 
'^  Bolt-court^  Fleet-street,  "  Sam.  Johnson." 

March  19,  1782. 

On  the  day  on  which  this  letter  was  written,  he  thus 
feelingly  mentions  his  respected  friend,  and  physician, 
Dr.  Lawrence  : — "  Poor  Lawrence  has  almost  lost  the 
sense  of  hearing  ;  and  1  have  lost  the  conversation  of  a 
learned,  intelligent,  and  communicative  companion, 
and  a  friend  whom  long  familiarity  has  much  endear- 
ed. Lawrence  is  one  of  the  best  men  whom  1  have 
known. — '  Nostrum  omnium  miserere  Deus."^ 

It  was  Dr.  Johnson's  custom  when  he  wrote  to  Dr. 
Lawrence  concerning  his  own  health,  to  use  the  Latin 
language.  1  have  been  favoured  by  Miss  Lawrence 
with  one  of  these  letters  as  a  specimen  : 

T.  Lawjiencio,  Medico,  S. 

"  Novum  Jrigus,  nova  tussis,  nova  spirandi  d'lffi^ 
cultas,  novam  sanguinis  missionem  suadent,  quam  tamen 
te  inconsulto  nolim  fieri.  Ad  te  venire  vix  possum,  nee 
est  cur  ad  me  venias.  Licere  vel  non  iicere  ime  verba 
dicendum  est ;  ccetera  mild  et  Holdero  *  religueris.  Si 
per  te  licet,  imperatur  nuncio  Holderum  ad  me  deducere, 
"  Maiis  Calendis,  1782. 

"  Postqudm  tu  disciesseris,  qub  me  vertam  ?"^ 

'  Prayers  and  Meditations,  p.  207. 
8  Mr.  Holder,  in  the  Strand,  Dr.  Johnson's  apothecary. 

''  Soon  after  the  above  letter,  Dr.  Lawrence  left  London,  but  not  before  the 
palsy  had  made  so  great  a  progress  as  to  render  him  unable  to  write  for  himself. 
The  following  are  extracts  from  letters  addressed  by  Dr.  Johnson  to  one  of  his 
daughters  : 

"  You  will  easily  believe  with  what  gladness  I  read  that  you  had  heard  once 
again  that  voice  to  which  we  have  all  so  often  delighted  to  attend.  May  you 
often  hear  it.     If  we  had  his  mind,  and  his  tongue,  we  could  spare  the  rest 

"  1  am  not  vigorous,  but  much  better  than  when  dear  Dr.  Lawrence  held  my 
pulse  the  last  time.  Be  so  kind  as  to  let  me  know,  from  One  little  interval  to  an- 
other, the  state  of  his  body.  I  am  pleased  that  he  remembers  me,  and  hope  that 
it  never  can  be  possible  for  me  to  forget  him.     July  22,  1782. 


DR.   JOHNSON.  261 


1782. 

Etat 

73. 


"  TO  CAPTAIN  LANGTON,'    IN  ROCHESTER.  Jtat. 

"  DEAR  SIR, 

"  It  is  now  long  since  we  saw  one  another  ;  and, 
whatever  has  been  the  reason,  neither  you  have  written 
to  me,  nor  1  to  you.  To  let  friendship  die  away  by 
neghgence  and  silence,  is  certainly  not  wise.  It  is 
voluntarily  to  throw  away  one  of  the  greatest  comforts 
of  this  weary  pilgrimage,  of  which  when  it  is,  as  it 
must  be  taken  finally  away,  he  that  travels  on  alone, 
will  wonder  how  his  esteem  could  be  so  little.  Do 
not  forget  me  ;  you  see  that  1  do  not  forget  you.  It 
is  pleasing  in  the  silence  of  sohtude  to  think,  that  there 
is  one  at  least,  however  distant,  of  whose  benevolence 
there  is  little  doubt,  and  whom  there  is  yet  hope  of 
seeing  again. 

"  Of  my  life,  from  the  time  we  parted,  the  history 
is  mournful.  The  spring  of  last  year  deprived  me  of 
Thrale,  a  man  whose  eye  for  fifteen  years  had  scarcely 
been  turned  upon  me  but  with  respect  or  tenderness  ; 
for  such  another  friend,  the  general  course  of  human 
things  will  not  suflfer  man  to  hope.  1  passed  the  sum- 
mer at  Streatham,  but  there  was  no  Thrale  ;  and  hav- 
ing idled  away  the  summer  with  a  weakly  body  and 
neglected  mind,  I  made  a  journey  to  Staflfordshire  on 
the  edge  of  winter.  The  season  was  dreary,  I  was 
sickly,  and  found  the  friends  sickly  whom  I  went  to 

"  I  am  much  delighted  even  with  the  small  advances  which  dear  Dr.  Lawrence 
inakes  towards  recovery.  If  we  could  have  again  but  his  mind,  and  his  tongue  in 
his  mind,  and  his  right  hand,  we  should  not  much  lament  the  rest.  I  should  not 
despair  of  helping  the  swelled  hand  by  electricity,  if  it  were  frequently  and  dili- 
gently supplied. 

"  Let  me  know  from  time  to  time  whatever  happens  ;  and  I  hope  I  need  not 
tell  you,  how  much  I  am  interested  in  every  change.    Aug.  26,  1782." 

"  Though  the  account  with  which  you  favoured  me  in  your  last  letter  could 
not  give  me  the  pleasure  that  I  wished,  yet  I  was  glad  to  receive  it ;  for  my  affec- 
tion to  my  dear  friend  makes  me  desirous  of  knowing  his  state,  whatever  it  be.  I 
beg,  therefore,  that  you  continue  to  let  me  know,  from  time  to  time,  all  that  you 
observe. 

"  Many  fits  of  severe  illness  have,  for  about  three  months  past,  forced  my  kind 
physician  often  upon  my  mind.  I  am  now  better  ;  and  hope  gratitude,  as  well  as 
distress,  can  be  a  motive  to  remembrance.     Bolt-court,  Fleet-street,  Feb.  4,  178,3." 

'  Mr.  Langton  being  at  this  time  on  duty  at  Rochester,  he  is  addressed  by  hij 
Inilitary  title. 


26*2  DR.    JOHNSON. 

1782.  see.  After  a  sorrowful  sojourn,  I  returned  to  a  habita- 
£tat.  ^^^^  possessed  for  the  present  by  two  sick  women, 
73.  where  my  dear  old  friend,  Mr.  Levet,  to  whom,  as  he 
used  to  tell  me,  1  owe  your  acquaintance,  died  a  few 
weeks  ago,  suddenly  in  his  bed  ;  there  passed  not,  1  be- 
lieve, a  minute  between  health  and  death.  At  night, 
as  at  Mrs.  Thrale's,  1  was  musing  in  my  chamber,  I 
thought  with  uncommon  earnestness,  that  however  I 
might  alter  my  mode  of  life,  or  whithersoever  1  might 
remove,  1  would  endeavour  to  retain  Levet  about  me  ; 
in  the  morning  my  servant  brought  me  word  that  Levet 
tvas  called  to  another  state,  a  state  for  which,  1  think, 
he  was  not  unprepared,  for  he  was  very  useful  to  the 
poor.  How  much  soever  I  valued  him,  1  now  wish 
that  I  had  valued  him  more.^ 

"  I  have  myself  been  ill  more  than  eight  weeks  of  a 
disorder,  from  which  at  the  expence  of  about  fifty 
ounces  of  blood,  I  hope  1  am  now  recovering. 

"  You,  dear  Sir,  have,  1  hope,  a  more  cheerful  scene  ; 
you  see  George  fond  of  his  book,  and  the  pretty  misses 
airy  and  lively,  with  my  own  little  Jenny  equal  to  the 
best:  and  in  whatever  can  contribute  to  your  quiet  or 
pleasure,  you  have  Lady  Rothes  ready  toc«icur.  May 
whatever  you  enjoy  of  good  be  increased,  and  whatever 
you  suffer  of  evil  be  diminished.  1  am,  dear  Sir, 
"  Your  humble  servant, 
^'■Bolt-Court,  Fleet-street,  "  Sam.  Johnson." 

March  20,  17H2. 

"  TO  MR.  HECTOR,  IN  BIRMINGHAM.  ^ 
"  DEAR  SIR, 

"  I  HOPE  I  do  not  very  grossly  flatter  myself  to  im- 
agine that  you  and  dear  Mrs.  Careless*  will  be  glad  to 

^  Johnson  has  here  expressed  a  sentiment  similar  to  that  contained  in  one  of 
SJienstone's  stanzas,  to  which  in  his  life  of  tliat  poet  he  has  given  high  praise : 

"  I  prized  every  hour  that  went  by, 

"  Beyond  all  that  had  pleas'd  me  before ; 

"  But  now  they  are  gone  and  I  sigh, 

"  And  I  grieve  that  I  prized  them  no  more."  J.  B.— O.] 

'  A  part  of  this  letter  having  been  torn  ofF,  I  have,  from  the  evident  meaning' 
supplied  a  few  words  and  half  words  at  the  ends  and  beginning  of  lines. 

"  See  Vol.  II.  p.  264. 


DR.    JOHNSON.  263 

hear  some  account  of  me.     1  performed  the  journey  to  iv82. 
London  with  very  little  inconvenience,  and  came  safe  ^J^ 
to  my  habitation,  where  I  found  nothing  but  il!  health,   73. 
and,  of  consequence,   very  little  cheerfulness.     I  then 
went  to  visit  a  little  way  into  the  country,  where  I  got 
a  complaint  by   a  cold   which  has   hung  eight  weeks 
upon  me,  and  from  which  1  am,  at  the  expence  of  fifty 
ounces  of  blood,  not  yet  free.     I  am  afraid  1  must  once 
more  owe  my  recovery  to  warm  weather,  which  seems 
to  make  no  advances  towards  us. 

"  Such  is  my  health,  which  will,  I  hope,  soon  grow 
better.  In  other  respects  i  have  no  reason  to  complain. 
I  know  not  that  i  have  written  any  thing  more  gener- 
ally commended  than  the  Lives  of  the  Poets  ;  and  have 
found  the  world  willing  enough  to  caress  me,  if  ray 
health  had  invited  me  to  be  in  much  company  ;  but 
this  season  I  have  been  almost  wholly  employed  in 
nursing  myself. 

"  When  summer  comes  I  hope  to  see  you  again,  and 
will  not  put  off  my  visit  to  the  end  of  the  year.  1  have 
lived  so  long  in  London,  that  1  did  not  remember  the 
difference  of  seasons. 

*'  Your  health,  when  I  saw  you,  was  much  improved. 
You  will  be  prudent  enough  not  to  put  it  in  danger. 
I  hope,  when  we  meet  again,  we  shall  congratulate 
each  other  upon  fair  prospects  of  longer  life ;  though 
what  are  the  pleasures  of  the  longest  life,  when  placed 
in  comparison  with  a  happy  death  ?  I  am,  dear  Sir, 
"  Yours  most  affectionately, 
"  London,  March  21,  1782.  "  Sam.  Johnson." 

TO  THE  SAME, 

[Without  a  date,  but  supposed  to  be 
DEAR  SIR,  about  this  time.] 

*'  That  you  and  dear  Mrs.  Careless  should  have 
care  or  curiosity  about  my  health,  gives  me  that  pleas- 
ure which  every  man  feels  from  finding  himself  not 
forgotten.  In  age  we  feel  again  that  love  of  our  native 
place  and  our  early  friends,  which  in  the  bustle  or 
amusements  of  middle  life,  were  overborne  and  sus- 
pended.    You  and  1  should  now  naturally  cling  to  one 


264  THE    LIFE    OF 

1782.  another :  we  have  outlived  most  of  those  who  could 
^J^  pretend  to  rival  us  in  each  other's  kindness.  In  our 
73.  walk  through  life  we  have  dropped  our  companions, 
and  are  now  to  pick  up  such  as  chance  may  off^^r  us, 
or  to  travel  on  alone.  You,  indeed,  have  a  sister,  with 
whom  you  can  divide  the  day  :  1  have  no  natural  friend 
left ;  but  Providence  has  been  pleased  to  preserve  me 
from  neglect ;  I  have  not  wanted  su«:h  alleviations  of 
life  as  friendship  could  supply.  My  health  has  been, 
from  my  twentieth  year,  such  as  has  seldom  afforded 
me  a  single  day  of  ease  ;  but  it  is  at  least  not  worse  : 
and  I  sometimes  make  myself  believe  that  it  is  better. 
My  disorders  are,  however,  still  sufficiently  oppressive. 
"  1  think  of  seeing  Staffordshire  again  this  autumn, 
and  intend  to  find  my  way  through  Birmingham,  where 
I  hope  to  see  you  and  dear  Mrs.  Careless  well.  1  am, 
Sir, 

"  Your  affectionate  friend, 

"  Sam.  Johnson." 

I  wrote  to  him  at  different  dates  ;  regretted  that  I 
could  not  come  to  London  this  spring,  but  hoped  we 
should  meet  somewhere  in  the  summer;  mentioned  the 
state  of  my  affairs,  and  suggested  hopes  of  some  prefer- 
ment ;  informed  him,  that  as  "  f  he  Beauties  of  John- 
son," had  been  published  in  London,  some  obsfure 
scribbler  had  published  at  Edinburgh,  what  he  called 
*'  The  Deformities  of  Johnson." 

"  TO  JAMES  BOSWELL,  ESQ. 
"  DEAR  SIR,  '^ 

"  The  pleasure  which  we  used  to  receive  from 
each  other  on  Good- Friday  and  Laster-day,  we  must  f)e 
this  year  content  to  miss.  Let  us,  however,  pray  for 
each  other,  and  hope  to  see  one  another  yet  from  time 
to  time  with  mutual  delight.  My  disorder  has  been  a 
cold,  which  impeded  the  organs  of  respiration,  and  kept 
me  many  weeks  in  a  state  of  great  uneasiness  ;  but  by 
repeated  phlebotomy  it  is  now  relieved  ;  and  next  to 
the  recovery  of  Mrs.  Boswell,  1  flatter  myself,  that  you 
will  rejoice  at  mine. 


I 


DR.   JOHNSON.  S65 

"  What  we  shall  do  in  the  summer,  it  is  yet  too  early  *782. 
to  consider.  You  want  to  know  what  you  shall  do  ^^^ 
now  ;  1  do  not  think  this  time  of  bustle  and  confusion  ^  73.  * 
like  to  produce  any  advantage  to  you.  Every  man  has 
those  to  reward  and  gratify  who  have  contributed  to 
his  advancement.  To  come  hither  with  such  expecta- 
tions at  the  expence  of  borrowed  money,  which,  1  find, 
you  know  not  where  to  borrow,  can  hardly  be  consid- 
ered prudent.  1  am  sorry  to  find,  what  your  solicita- 
tions seem  to  imply,  that  you  have  already  gone  the 
whole  length  of  your  credit.  This  is  to  set  the  quiet 
of  your  whole  life  at  hazard.  If  you  anticipate  your  in- 
heritance, you  can  at  last  inherit  nothing  ;  all  that  you 
receive  must  pay  for  the  past.  You  must  get  a  place, 
or  pine  in  penury,  with  the  empty  name  of  a  great 
estate.  Poverty,  my  dear  friend,  is  so  great  an  evil, 
and  pregnant  with  so  much  temptation,  and  so  much 
misery,  that  1  cannot  but  earnestly  enjoin  you  to  avoid 
it.  Live  on  what  you  have  ;  live  if  you  can  on  less  ; 
do  not  borrow  either  for  vanity  or  pleasure ;  the  vanity 
will  end  in  shame,  and  the  pleasure  in  regret :  stay  there- 
fore at  home,  till  you  have  saved  money  for  your  jour- 
ney hither. 

"  The  Beauties  of  Johnson'  are  said  to  have  got 
money  to  the  collector  ;  if  the  '  Deformities'  have  the 
same  success,  I  shall  be  still  a  more  extensive  benefactor. 

"  Make  my  compliments  to  Mrs.  Boswell,  who  is  I 
hope  reconciled  to  me  ;  and  to  the  young  people  whom 
I  never  have  offended. 

"  You  never  told  me  the  success  of  your  plea  against 
the  Solicitors.     1  am,  dear  Sir, 

"  Your  most  affectionate, 
"  London,  March  28,  1782.  "  Sam.  Johnson," 

Notwithstanding  his  afflicted  state  of  body  and  mind 
this  year,  the  following  correspondence  affords  a  proof 
not  only  of  his  benevolence  and  conscientious  readiness 
to  relieve  a  good  man  from  errour,  but  by  hiscloathing 
one  of  the  sentiments  in  his  "  Rambler"  in  different 

^  [On  the  preceding  day  the  Ministry  had  been  changed,    M.] 

VOL.  III.  34 


266 


THE    LIFE    OF 


•782.  language,  not  inferiour  to  that  of  the  original,  shews  his 
jEtat.  extraordinary  command  of  clear  and  forcible  expression. 
73.  A  clergyman  at  Bath  wrote  to  him,  that  in  "  The 
Morning  Chronicle,^'  a  passage  in  "  I'he  Beauties  of 
Johnson,^'  article  Death,  had  been  pointed  out  as  sup- 
posed by  some  readers  to  recommend  suicide,  the  words 
being,  "  To  die  is  the  fate  of  man  ;  but  to  die  with 
lingering  anguish  is  generally  his  folly  ;"  and,  respect- 
fully suggesting  to  him,  that  such  an  erroneous  notion 
of  any  sentence  in  the  writings  of  an  acknowledged 
friend  of  religion  and  virtue,  should  not  pass  uncon- 
tradicted. 

Johnson  thus  answered  the  clergyman's  letter  : 

TO  THE  REVEREND  MR. ,  AT  BATH. 

"  SIR, 

"  Being  now  in  the  country  in  a  state  of  recovery, 
as  1  hope,  from  a  very  oppressive  disorder,  I  cannot  neg- 
lect the  acknowledgement  of  your  Christian  letter.  The 
book  called  "  The  Beauties  of  Johnson,"  is  the  produc- 
tion of  I  know  not  whom  ;  I  never  saw  it  but  by  casual 
inspection,  and  considered  myself  as  utterly  disengaged 
from  its  consequences.  Of  the  passage  you  mention,  I 
remember  some  notice  in  some  paper  ;  but  knowing 
that  it  must  be  misrepresented,  1  thought  of  it  no  more, 
nor  do  I  know  where  to  find  it  in  my  own  books.  I 
am  accustomed  to  think  little  of  newspapers  ;  but  an 
opinion  so  weighty  and  serious  as  yours  has  determined 
me  to  do,  what  I  should  without  your  seasonable  ad- 
monition, have  omitted  :  and  I  will'direct  my  thought 
to  be  shewn  in  its  true  state. ^     If  1  could  find  the  pas- 

*  What  follows,  appeared  in  the  Morning  Ohroniclc  of  May  29,  1782. — "  A  cor- 
respondent having  mentioned,  in  the  Morning  Chronicle  of  IJecember  12,  the  last 
clause  of  the  following  paragraph,  as  seeming  to  favour  suicide  ;  we  are  requested 
to  print  the  whole  passage,  that  its  true  meaning  may  appear,  which  is  not  to  re- 
commend suicide  but  exercise. 

"  Exercise  cannot  secure  us  from  that  dissolution  to  which  we  are  decreed ;  but 
while  the  soul  and  bodv  continue  united,  it  can  make  the  association  pleasing,  and 
give  probable  hopes  that  they  shall  be  disjoined  by  an  easy  separation.  It  was  a 
principle  among  the  anticnts,  that  acute  diseases  are  from  Heaven,  and  chronical 
from  ourselves  ;  the  dart  of  death,  indeed,  falls  from  Heaven,  but  we  poison  it  by 
our  own  misconduct ;  to  die  is  the  fate  of  man  ;  but  to  die  witii  lingering  anguish 
is  generally  lus  folly." 


DR.   JOHNSON.  '^QJ 

sage  I  would  direct  you  to  it.     I  suppose  the  tenour  is  ^7B2. 
this  : — *  Acute  diseases  are  the  immediate  and  inevitable  ^CX 
strokes  of  Heaven  ;  but  of  them  the  pain  is  short,  and  73. 
the  conclusion  speedy  ;  chronical  disorders,   by  which 
we  are  suspended  in  tedious  torture  between  life  and 
death,  are  commonly  the  effect  of  our  own  misconduct 
and  intemperance.     To  die,  &c,' — This,  Sir,  you  see  is 
all  true  and  all   blameless.     1  hope  some  time  in  the 
next  week,  to  have  all  rectified.     My  health  has  been 
lately  much  shaken  ;  if  you  favour  me  with  any  answer, 
it  will  be  a  comfort  to  me  to  know  that  1  have  your 
prayers. 

"  I  am,  &c. 
"  May  15,  1782.  "  Sam.  Johnson." 

This  letter,  as  might  be  expected,  had  its  full  effect, 
and  the  clergyman  ackowledged  it  in  grateful  and  pious 
terms.' 

The  following  letters  require  no  extracts  from  mine 
to  introduce  them. 

"  to  james  boswell,  esq. 

"dear  sir, 

"  The  earnestness  and  tenderness  of  your  letter 
is  such,  that  1  cannot  think  myself  shewing  it  more 
respect  than  it  claims  by  sitting  down  to  answer  it  the 
day  on  which  1  received  it. 

"  This  year  has  afflicted  me  with  a  very  irksome  and 
severe  disorder.  My  respiration  has  been  much  im- 
peded, and  much  blood  has  been  taken  away.  I  am 
now  harassed  by  a  cartarrhous  cough,  from  which  my 
purpose  is  to  seek  relief  by  change  of  air  ;  and  I  am, 
therefore,  preparing  to  go  to  Oxford. 

"  Whether  1  did  right  in  dissuading  you  from  com- 
ing to  London  this  spring,  1  will  not  determine.  You 
have  not  lost  much  by  missing  my  company  ;  1  have 
scarcely  been  well  for  a  single  week.  1  might  have 
received  comfort  from  your  kindness  ;   but  you  would 

'  The  Correspondence  may  be  seen  at  length  in  the  Gentleman's  Magazine, 
Feb.  1786. 


268  THE    LIFE    OP 

J 782.  have  seen  me  afflicted,  and,  perhaps,  found  me  peevish. 

^aT  VVhatever  might  have  been  your  pleasure  or  mine,  I 
73.  know  not  how  I  could  have  honestly  advised  you  to 
come  hither  with  borrowed  money.  Do  not  accustom 
yourself  to  consider  debt  only  as  an  inconvenience  ;  you 
will  find  it  a  calamity.  Poverty  takes  away  so  many 
means  of  doing  good,  and  produces  so  much  inability 
to  resist  evil,  both  natural  and  moral,  that  it  is  by  all 
virtuous  means  to  be  avoided.  Consider  a  man  whose 
fortune  is  very  narrow  ;  whatever  be  his  rank  by  birth, 
or  whatever  his  reputation  by  intellectual  excellence, 
what  can  he  do  ?  or  what  evil  can  he  prevent  ?  That 
he  cannot  help  the  needy  is  evident  ;  he  has  nothing 
to  spare.  But,  perhaps,  his  advice  or  admonition  may 
be  useful.  His  poverty  will  destroy  his  influence  : 
many  more  can  find  that  he  is  poor,  than  that  he  is 
wise  ;  and  few  will  reverence  the  understanding  that 
is  of  so  little  advantage  to  its  owner.  1  say  nothing  of 
the  personal  wretchedness  of  a  debtor,  which,  however, 
has  passed  into  a  proverb.  Of  riches  it  is  not  neces- 
sary to  write  the  praise.  Let  it,  however,  be  remem- 
bered, that  he  who  has  money  to  spare,  has  it  always  in 
his  power  to  benefit  others ;  and  of  such  power  a  good 
man  must  always  be  desirous. 

"  1  am  pleased  with  your  account  of  Easter. «  We 
shall  meet,  1  hope  in  autumn,  both  well  and  both 
cheerful  ;  and  part  each  the  better  for  the  other's 
company. 

"  Make  my  compliments  to  Mrs.  Boswell,  and  to 
the  young  charmers. 

"  I  am,  &c. 
"  London^  June  3,  1782.  "  Sam.  Johnson.^' 

"  TO  MR.    PERKINS, 
"  DEAR  SIR, 

"  I  AM  much  pleased  that  you  are  going  a  very 
long  journey,  which  may  by  proper  conduct  restore 
your  health  and  prolong  your  life. 

B  Which  I  celebrated  in  the  Church-of-England  chapel  at  Edinburgh,  founded 
by  Lord  Chief  Baron  Smith,  of  respectable  and  pious  memory. 


DR.   JOHNSON.  269 

*'  Observe  these  rules  :  1782. 

"  1.  Turn  all  care  out  of  your  head  as  soon  as  you  JJ^ 
mount  the  chaise.  73. 

"  2.  Do  not  think  about  frugality  ;  your  health  is 
worth  more  than  it  can  cost. 

"  3.  Do  not  continue  any  day's  journey  to  fatigue. 

"  4.  Take  now  and  then  a  day's  rest. 

"  6.  Get  a  smart  sea-sickness,  if  you  can. 

"  6.  Cast  away  all  anxiety,  and  keep  your  mind  easy. 

"  This  last  direction  is  the  principal ;  with  an  un- 
quiet mind,  neither  exercise,  nor  diet,  nor  physick,  can 
be  of  much  use. 

"  1  wish  you,  dear  Sir,  a  prosperous  journey,  and  a 
happy  recovery.     1  am,  dear  Sir, 

"  Your  most  affectionate,  humble  servant, 
"  Jult/  28,  1782.  "  Sam.  Johnson." 

"  TO  JAMES  BOSWELL,    ESQ. 
"  DEAR  SIR, 

"  Being  uncertain  whether  I  should  have  any  call 
this  autumn  into  the  country,  I  did  not  immediately 
answer  your  kind  letter.  1  have  no  call ;  but  if  you  de- 
sire to  meet  me  at  Ashbourne,  I  believe  I  can  come 
thither;  if  you  had  rather  come  to  London,  1  can  stay 
at  Streatham  :  take  your  choice. 

"  This  year  has  been  very  heavy.  From  the  middle 
of  January  to  the  middle  of  June  i  was  battered  by  one 
disorder  after  another  !  1  am  now  very  much  recovered, 
and  hope  still  to  be  better.  What  happiness  it  is  that 
Mrs.  Boswell  has  escaped. 

"  My  '  Lives'  are  reprinting,  and  I  have  forgotten 
the  authour  of  Gray's  character : ^  write  immediately, 
and  it  may  be  perhaps  yet  inserted. 

"  Of  London  or  Ashbourne  you  have  your  free 
choice  ;  at  any  place  1  shall  be  glad  to  see  you.  1  am, 
dear  Sir, 

^'  Yours,  &c. 
''August  24,  1782.  "  Sam.  Johnson." 

i 

'  The  Reverend  Mr.  Temple :  Vicar  of  St.  Gluvias,  ComwalT. 


270  THE    LIFE    OF 

1782.      On  the  30th  of  August,  I  informed  him  that  my  hon- 

^^  oured  father  had  died  that  morning  ;  a  complaint  under 

73,    which  he  had  long  hiboured,  having  suddenly  come  to 

a  crisis,  while  1  was  upon  a  visit  at  the  seat  of  Sir  Charles 

Preston,  from  whence  1  had  hastened  the  day  before, 

upon  receiving  a  letter  by  express. 

"  TO  JAMES  BOSWELL,  ESQ. 
"  DEAR  SIR, 

"  I  HAVE  Struggled  through  this  year  with  so 
much  infirmity  of  body,  and  such  strong  impressions  of 
the  fragility  of  life,  that  death,  whenever  it  appears,  fills 
me  with  melancholy  ;  and  1  cannot  hear  without  emo- 
tion, of  the  removal  of  any  one,  whom  1  have  known, 
into  another  state. 

"  Your  father's  death  had  every  circumstance  that 
could  enable  you  to  bear  it ;  it  was  at  a  mature  age, 
and  it  was  expected  ;  and  as  his  general  life  had  been 
pious,  his  thoughts  had  doubtless  for  many  years  past 
been  turned  upon  eternity.  That  you  did  not  find  him 
sensible  must  doubtless  grieve  you  ;  his  disposition  to- 
wards you  was  undoubtedly  that  of  a  kind,  though  not 
of  a  fond  father.  Kindness,  at  least  actual,  is  in  our 
power,  but  fondness  is  not ;  and  if  by  negligence  or 
imprudence  you  had  extinguished  his  fondness,  he  could 
not  at  will  rekindle  it.  Nothing  then  remained  between 
you  but  mutual  forgiveness  of  each  other's  faults,  and 
mutual  desire  of  each  other's  happiness. 

"  1  shall  long  to  know  his  final  disposition  of  his 
fortune. 

'•  You,  dear  Sir,  have  now  a  new  station,  and  have 
therefore  new  cares,  and  new  employments.  Life,  as 
Cowley  seems  to  say,  ought  to  resemble  a  well-ordered 
poem  ;  of  which  one  rule  generally  received  is,  that  the 
exordium  should  be  simple,  and  should  promise  little. 
Begin  your  new  course  of  life  with  the  least  shew,  and 
the  least  expence  possible;  you  may  at  pleasure  encrease 
both,  but  you  cannot  easily  diminish  them.  Do  not 
think  your  estate  your  own,  while  any  man  can  call 
upon  you  for  money  which  you  cannot  pay ;  therefore, 


DR.   JOHNSON.  271 

beg^in   with  timorous  parsimony.     Let  it  be  your  first  i782. 
care  not  to  be  m  any  man  s  debt.  ^tat. 

"  When  the  thoughts  are  extended  to  a  future  state,  73.  * 
the  present  hfe  seems  hardly  worthy  of  all  those  princi- 
ples of  conduct,  and  maxims  of  prudence,  which  one 
generation  of  men  has  transmitted  to  another  ;  but  upon, 
a  closer  view,  when  it  is  perceived  how  much  evil  is 
produced,  and  how  much  good  is  impeded  by  embarass- 
ment  and  distress,  and  how  little  room  the  expedients 
of  poverty  leave  for  the  exercise  of  virtue,  it  grows  man- 
ifest that  the  boundless  importance  of  the  next  life  en- 
forces some  attention  to  the  interest  of  this. 

"  Be  kind  to  the  old  servants,  and  secure  the  kind- 
ness of  the  agents  and  factors ;  do  not  disgust  them  by 
asperity,  or  unwelcome  gaiety,  or  apparent  suspicion. 
From  them  you  must  learn  the  real  state  of  your  affairs, 
the  characters  of  your  tenants,  and  the  value  of  your 
lands. 

"  Make  my  compliments  to  Mrs.  Boswell  ;  I  think 
her  expectations  from  air  and  exercise  are  the  best  that 
she  can  form.     1  hope  she  will  live  long  and  happily. 

"  1  forgot  whether  I  told  you  that  Rasay  has  been 
here  ;  we  dined  cheerfully  together.  1  entertained 
lately  a  young  gentleman  from  Corrichatachin. 

"  1  received  your  letters  only  this  morning.  I  am, 
dear  Sir, 

"  Yours,  &c. 
"  London  Sept.  7,  1782.  "  Sam.  Johnson." 

In  answer  to  my  next  letter,  I  received  one  from 
him,  dissuading  me  from  hastening  to  him  as  I  had  pro- 
posed ;  what  is  proper  for  publication  is  the  following 
paragraph,  equally  just  and  tender  : 

"  One  expence,  however,  1  would  not  have  you  to 
spare  ;  let  nothing  be  omitted  that  can  preserve  Mrs. 
Boswell,  though  it  should  be  necessary  to  transplant 
her  for  a  time  into  a  softer  climate.  She  is  the  prop 
and  stay  of  your  life.  How  much  must  your  children 
suffer  by  losing  her." 

My  wife  was  now  so  much  convinced  of  his  sincere 
friendship  for  me,  and  regard  for  her,  that,  without  any 


979  THE    LIFE    OF 

1782.  suggestion  on  my  part,  she  wrote  him  a  very  poUte  and 
^t^.  gfiiteful  letter. 

73. 

"  DR.  JOHNSON  TO  MRS.  BOSWELL. 

"  DEAR  LADY, 

"  1  HAVE  not  often  received  so  much  pleasure  as 
from  your  invitation  to  Auchinleck.  The  journey 
thither  and  back  is,  indeed,  too  great  for  the  latter  part 
of  the  year ;  but  if  my  health  were  fully  recovered,  I 
would  suffer  no  little  heat  and  cold,  nor  a  wet  or  a 
rough  road  to  keep  me  from  you.  1  am,  indeed,  not 
without  hope  of  seeing  Auchinleck  again  ;  but  to  make 
it  a  pleasant  place  I  must  see  its  lady  well,  and  brisk, 
and  airy.  For  my  sake,  therefore,  among  many  greater 
reasons,  take  care,  dear  Madam,  of  your  health,  spare 
no  expence,  and  want  no  attendance  that  can  procure 
ease,  or  preserve  it.  Be  very  careful  to  keep  your  mind 
quiet ;  and  do  not  think  it  too  much  to  give  an  account 
of  your  recovery  to  Madam, 

"  Yours,  &c. 
"  London  Sept.  7,  17S2.  "  Sam.  Johnson." 

"  TO  JAMES  BOSWELL,    ESQ. 
"  DEAR  SIR, 

"  Having  passed  almost  this  whole  year  in  a  suc- 
cession of  disorders,  1  went  in  October  to  Brighthelm- 
stone,  whither  I  came  in  a  state  of  so  much  weakness, 
that  I  rested  four  times  in  walking  between  the  inn  and 
the  lodging.  By  physick  and  abstinence  1  grew  better, 
and  am  now  reasonably  easy,  though  at  a  great  distance 
from  health.  I  am  afraid,  however,  that  health  begins, 
after  seventy,  and  long  before,  to  have  a  meaning  dif- 
ferent from  that  which  it  had  at  thirty.  But  it  is  cul- 
pable to  murmer  at  the  established  order  of  the  creation, 
as  it  is  vain  to  oppose  it,  he  that  lives,  must  grow  old  ; 
and  he  that  would  rather  grow  old  than  die,  has  God 
to  thank  for  the  infirmities  of  old  age. 

"  At  your  long  silence   1  am  rather  angry.     You  do 
not,  since  now  you  are  the  head  of  your  house,  think 


DR.   JOHNSON.  27s 

it  worth  your  while  to  try  whether  you  or  your  friend  ^782. 
can  hve  longer  without  writing,  nor  suspect  that  after  so  ^■^^ 
many  years  of  friendship,   that  when  I  do  not  write  to   73. 
you,  I  forget  you.     Put  all  such  useless  jealousies  out 
of  your  head,  and  disdain  to  regulate  your  own  practice 
by  the  practice  of  another,  or  by  any  other  principle  than 
the  desire  of  doing  right. 

"  Your  oeconomy,  1  suppose,  begins  now  to  be  set- 
tled ;  3^our  expences  are  adjusted  to  your  revenue,  and 
all  your  people  in  their  proper  places.  Resolve  not  to 
be  poor  :  whatever  you  have,  spend  less.  Poverty  is  a 
great  enemy  to  human  happiness  ;  it  certainly  destroys 
liberty,  and  it  makes  some  virtues  impracticable,  and 
others  extremely  difficult. 

"  Let  me  know  the  history  of  your  life,  since  your 
accession  to  your  estate.  How  many  houses,  how  many 
cows,  how  much  land  in  your  own  hand,  and  what  bar- 
gains you  make  with  your  tenants. 

****** 

"  Of  my  *  Lives  of  the  Poets,'  they  have  printed  a 
new  edition  in  octavo,  1  hear,  of  three  thousand.  Did 
I  give  a  set  to  Lord  Hailes?  If  1  did  not,  I  will  do  it 
out  of  these.     What  did  you  make  of  all  your  copy  ? 

"  Mrs.  Thrale  and  the  three  Misses  are  now  for  the 
winter,  in  Argyll-street.     Sir  Joshua  Reynolds  has  been 
out  of  order,  but  is  well  again  ;  and  1  am,  dear  Sir, 
"  Your  affectionate  humble  servant, 
"  London,  Dec.  7,  1782.  "Sam.  Johnson.'' 

"  to  dr.  SAMUEL  JOHNSON. 

"  DEAR  SIR,  *'  Edinburgh  Dec.  20,  17S2. 

"  I  WAS  made  happy  by  your  kind  letter,  which 
gave  us  the  agreeable  hopes  of  seeing  you  in  Scotland 
again. 

"  I  am  much  flattered  by  the  concern  you  are  pleased 
to  take  in  my  recovery.  I  am  better,  and  hope  to  have 
it  in  my  power  to  convince  you  by  my  attention,  of 
how  much  consequence  1  esteem  your  health  to  the 
world  and  to  myself.  1  remain.  Sir,  with  grateful  respect, 
"  Your  obliged  and  obedient  servant, 

"  Margaret  Boswbll." 
VOL.  III.  3.5 


574  THE    LIFE    OF 

1782.  The  death  of  Mr.  Thrale  had  made  a  very  material 
^t  jj  alteration  with  respect  to  Johnson's  reception  in  that 
73.  family.  The  manly  authority  of  the  husband  no  longer 
curbed  the  lively  exuberance  of  the  lady  ;  and  as  her 
vanity  had  been  fully  gratified,  by  having  the  Colossus 
of  Literature  attached  to  her  for  many  years,  she  grad- 
ually became  less  assiduous  to  please  him.  Whether 
her  attachment  to  him  was  already  divided  by  another 
object,  I  am  unable  to  ascertain  ;  but  it  is  plain  that 
Johnson's  penetration  was  alive  to  her  neglect  or  forced 
attention ;  for  on  the  6th  of  October  this  year,  we  find 
him  making  a  "  parting  use  of  the  library"  at  Streatham, 
and  pronouncing  a  prayer,  which  he  composed  on  leav- 
ing Mr.  Thrale's  family."' 

"  Almighty  God,  Father  of  all  mercy,  help  me  by 
thy  grace,  that  1  may,  with  humble  and  sincere  thank- 
fulness, remember  the  comforts  and  conveniencies  which 
I  have  enjoyed  at  this  place  ;  and  that  1  may  resign 
them  with  holy  submission,  equally  trusting  in  thy  pro- 
tection when  rhou  givest,  and  when  Thou  takest  away. 
Have  mercy  upon  me,  O  Lord,  have  mercy  upon  me. 

"  To  thy  fatherly  protection,  O  Lord,  I  commend 
this  family.  Bless,  guide,  and  defend  them,  that  they 
may  so  pass  through  this  world,  as  finally  to  enjoy  in 
thy  presence  everlasting  happiness,  for  Jesus'Christ's 
sake.     Amen." 

One  cannot  read  this  prayer,  without  some  emotions 
not  very  favourable  to  the  lady  whose  conduct  occa- 
sioned it. 

In  one  of  his  memorandum-books  I  find  "  Sunday, 
went  to  church  at  Streatham.  Templo  valedixi  cum 
osculo." 

He  met  Mr.  Philip  Metcalfe  often  at  Sir  Joshua 
Reynolds's,  and  other  places,  and  was  a  good  deal  with 
him  at  Brighthelmstone  this  autumn,  being  pleased 
at  once  with  his  excellent  table  and  animated  conver- 
sation. Mr.  Metcalfe  shewed  him  great  respect,  and 
sent  him  a  note  that  he  might  have  the  use  of  his  car- 
riage  whenever   he   pleased.      Johnson   (3d  October, 

'  Prayers  and  Meditations,  p.  214. 


DR.   JOHNSON.  27o 

1782)  returned  this  polite  answer  : — "  Mr.  Johnson  is  Jyf's. 
very   much  obhged   by   the  kind  offer  of  the  carriage,  ^^ 
but  he  has  no  desire  of  using  Mr.  Metcalfe's  carriage,   73. 
except  when  he  can  have  the  pleasure  of  Mr.  Metcalfe's 
company."    Mr.  Metcalfe  could  not  but  be  highly  pleas- 
ed that  his  company  was  thus  valued  by  Johnson,  and 
he  frequently  attended  him   in    airings.       They  also 
went  together  to  Chichester,  and  they  visited  Petworth, 
and  Cowdry,   the  venerable  seat  of  the  Lords  Monta- 
cute.*     "  Sir,  (said  Johnson,)  1  should  hke  to  stay  here 
four-and- twenty  hours.     We  see  here  how  our  ances- 
tors lived." 

That  his  curiosity  was  still  unabated,  appears  from 
two  letters  to  Mr.  John  Nichols,  of  the  10th  and  20th 
of  October  this  year,  in  one  he  says,  "  1  have  looked 
into  your  '  Anecdotes,'  and  you  will  hardly  thank  a 
lover  of  literary  history  for  telling  you,  that  he  has  been 
much  informed  and  gratified.  1  wish  you  would  add 
your  own  discoveries  and  intelligence  to  those  of  Dr. 
Rawlinson,  and  undertake  the  Supplement  to  Wood. 
Think  of  it."  In  the  other,  "  I  wish.  Sir,  you  could 
obtain  some  fuller  information  of  Jortin,  Markland,  and 
Thirlby.  They  were  three  contemporaries  of  great 
eminence." 

"  TO  SIR  JOSHUA  REYNOLDS. 
"  DEAR  SIR, 

"  1  HEARD  yesterday  of  your  late  disorder,  and 
should  think  ill  of  myself  if  I  had  heard  of  it  without 
alarm.  1  heard  likewise  of  your  recovery,  which  I 
sincerely  wish  to  be  complete  and  permanent.  Your 
country  has  been  in  danger  of  losing  one  of  its  bright- 
est ornaments,  and  I  of  losing  one  of  my  oldest  and 
kindest  friends  ;  but  I  hope  you  will  still  live  long,  for 
the  honour  of  the  nation  :  and  that  more  enjoyment  of 
your  elegance,  your  intelligence,  and  your  benevolence, 
is  still  reserved  for,  dear  Sir,  your  most  affectionate,  &c. 

*'  Sam.  Johnson." 
"  Brighthelmstone^  Nov.  14,  1782." 

'  [This  venerable  mansion  has  since  been  totally  destroyed  by  fire.    M,] 


976  THE    LIFE    OF 

1782.      The  Revererid  Mr.  Wilson  having  dedicated  to  him 
jeJ^  his  "  Archaeologicfrl  Dictionary,"  that  mark  of  respect 
73.    was  thus  acknowledged  : 

"  TO  THE  REVEREND  MR.  WILSON,  CLITHEROE,  LAN- 
CASHIRE. 

"  REVEREND  SIR, 

"  That  1  have  long  omitted  to  return  you  thanks 
for  the  honour  conferred  upon  me  by  your  Dedication, 
I  entreat  you  with  great  earnestness  not  to  consider  as 
more  faulty  than  it  is.  A  very  importunate  and  op- 
pressive disorder  has  for  some  time  debarred  me  from 
the  pleasures,  and  obstructed  me  in  the  duties  of  life. 
The  esteem  and  kindness  of  wise  and  good  men  is  one 
of  the  last  pleasures  which  1  can  be  content  to  lose; 
and  gratitude  to  those  from  whom  this  pleasure  is  re- 
ceived, is  a  diity  of  which  1  hope  never  to  be  reproach- 
ed with  the  final  neglect.  1  therefore  now  return  you 
thanks  for  the  notice  which  I  have  received  from  you, 
and  which  1  consider  as  giving  to  my  name  not  only 
more  bulk,  but  more  weight ;  not  only  as  extending  its 
superficies,  but  as  increasing  its  value.  Your  book  was^ 
evidently  wanted,  and  will,  1  hope,  find  its  way  into 
the  school,  to  which,  however,  1  do  not  mean  to  con- 
fine it  ;  for  no  man  has  so  much  skill  in  antient  rites 
and  practices  as  not  to  want  it.  As  1  suppose  myself 
to  owe  part  of  your  kindness  to  my  excellent  friend, 
Dr.  Patten,  he  has  likewise  a  just  claim  to  my  acknowl- 
edgement, which  1  hope  you,  Sir,  will  transmit.  There 
will  soon  appear  a  new  edition  of  my  Poetical  Biogra- 
phy ;  if  you  will  accept  of  a  copy  to  keep  me  in  your 
mind,  be  pleased  to  let  me  know  how  it  may  be  con- 
veniently conveyed  to  you.  This  present  is  small,  but 
it  is  given  with  good  will  by.  Reverend  Sir, 

"  Your  most,  &c. 
«  December  31,  1782.  "  Sam.  Johnson." 

In  1783,  he  was  more  severely  afflicted  than  ever, 
as  will  appear  in  the  course  of  his  correspondence  ;  but 
still  the  same  ardour  fur  literature,  the  same  constant 


DR.   JOHNSON.  277 

piety,  the  same  kindness  for  his  friends,  and  the  same  '783. 
vivacity,  both  in  conversation  and  writing,  distinguished  J^'^ 
him.  74. 

Having  given  Dr.  Johnson  a  full  account  of  what  I 
was  doing  at  Auchinleck,  and  particularly  mentioned 
what  1  knew  would  please  him, — my  having  brought 
an  old  man  of  eighty-eight  from  a  lonely  cottage  to  a 
comfortable  habitation  within  my  enclosures,  where  he 
had  good  neighbours  near  to  him, — 1  received  an  answer 
in  February,  of  which  1  extract  what  follows  : 

"  I  am  delighted  with  your  account  of  your  activity 
at  Auchinleck,  and  wish  the  old  gentleman,  whom  you 
have  so  kindly  removed,  may  live  long  to  promote  your 
prosperity  by  hi^  prayers.  You  have  now  a  new  char- 
acter and  new  duties  ;  think  on  them  and  practise  them. 

"  Make  an  impartial  estimate  of  your  revenue,  and 
whatever  it  is,  live  upon  less.  Resolve  never  to  be 
poor.  Frugality  is  not  only  the  basis  of  quiet,  but  of 
beneficence.  No  man  can  help  others  that  wants  help 
himself;  we  must  have  enough  before  we  have  to  spare. 

"  I  am  glad  to  find  that  Mrs.  Boswell  grows  well ; 
and  hope  that  to  keep  her  well,  no  care  nor  caution 
will  be  omitted.     May  you  long  live  happily  together. 

"  When  you  come  hither,  pray  bring  with  you  Bax- 
ter's Anacreon.     1  cannot  get  that  edition  in  London."^ 

On  Friday,  March  21,  having  arrived  in  London  the 
night  before,  I  was  glad  to  find  him  at  Mrs.  Thrale's 
house,  in  Argyll-street,  appearances  of  friendship  be- 
tween them  being  still  kept  up.  1  was  shewn  into  his 
room,  and  after  the  first  salutation  he  said,  "  1  am  glad 
you  are  come :  1  am  very  ill."  He  looked  pale,  and 
was  distressed  with  a  difficulty  of  breathing  :  but  after 
the  common  enquiries  he  assumed  his  usual  strong  an- 
imated style  of  conversation.  Seeing  me  now  for  the 
first  time  as  a  Laird^  or  proprietor  of  land,  he  began 
thus  :  "  Sir,  the  superiority  of  a  country-gentleman 
over  the  people  upon  his  estate  is  very  agreeable  :  and 
he  who  says  he  does  not  feel  it  to  be  agreeable,  lies  ; 

^  [Dr.  Johnson  should  seem  not  to  have  sought  diligently  for  Baxter's  Anacreon, 
for  there  are  two  editions  of  that  book,  and  they  are  frequently  found  in  the  Lon- 
don Sale-Catalogues.    M.] 


278  THE    LIFE    OF 

1783.  for  it  must  be  agreeable  to  have  a  casual  superiority 
^^'^  over  those  who  are  by  nature  equal  with  us."  Bos- 
74.  WELL.  "  Yet,  Sir,  we  see  great  proprietors  of  land  who 
prefer  living  in  London."  Johxson.  "  Why,  Sir,  the 
pleasure  of  living  in  London,  the  intellectual  superiority 
that  is  enjoyed  there,  may  counterbalance  the  other. 
Besides,  Sir,  a  man  may  prefer  the  state  of  the  country- 
gentleman  upon  the  whole,  and  yet  there  may  never  be 
a  moment  when  he  is  willing  to  make  the  change,  to 
quit  London  for  it."  He  said,  "  It  is  better  to  have 
^ve per  cent,  out  of  land,  than  out  of  money,  because 
it  is  more  secure  ;  but  the  readiness  of  transfer,  and 
promptness  of  interest,  make  many  people  rather  choose 
the  funds.  Nay,  there  is  another  disadvantage  be- 
longing to  land,  compared  with  money.  A  man  is  not 
so  much  afraid  of  being  a  hard  creditor,  as  of  bemg  a 
hard  landlord."  Boswell.  "  Because  there  is  a  sort 
of  kindly  connection  between  a  landlord  and  his  ten- 
ants." Johnson.  "  No,  Sir;  many  landlords  with  us 
never  see  their  tenants.  It  is  because  if  a  landlord 
drives  away  his  tenants,  he  may  not  get  others  ;  whereas 
the  demand  for  money  is  so  great,  it  may  always  be  lent." 
He  talked  with  regret  and  indignation  of  the  fac- 
tious opposition  to  Government  at  this  time,  and  im- 
puted it  in  a  great  measure  to  the  Revolution.  "  Sir, 
(said  he,  in  a  low  voice,  having  come  nearer  to  me, 
while  his  old  prejudices  seemed  to  be  fomenting  in  his 
mind,)  this  Hanoverian  family  is  isoiee  here.  They 
have  no  friends.  Now  the  Stuarts  had  friends  who 
stuck  by  them  so  late  as  174o.  When  the  right  of  the 
King  is  not  reverenced,  there  will  not  be  reverence  for 
those  appointed  by  the  King." 

His  observation  that  the  present  royal  family  has  no 
friends,  has  been  too  much  justified  by  the  very  un- 
grateful behaviour  of  many  who  were  under  great  ob- 
ligations to  his  Majesty  ;  at  the  same  time  there  are  hon- 
ourable exceptions  ;  and  the  very  next  year  after  this- 
conversation,  and  ever  since,  the  King  has  had  as  ex- 
tensive and  generous  support  as  ever  was  given  to  any 
monarch,  and  has  had  the  satisfaction  of  knowing  that 
he  was  more  and  more  endeared  to  his  people. 


DR.   JOHNSON.  279 

He  repeated  to  me  his  verses  on  Mr.  Levet,  with  an  '783. 
emotion  which  gave  them  full  eft'ect  ;  and  then  he  was  ^^ 
pleased  to  say,  "  You    must  be  as  much   with   me   as   74. 
you  can.     You  have  done  me  good.     You  cannot  think 
how  much  better  L  am,  since  you  came  in.^' 

He  sent  a  message  to  acquaint  Mrs.  Thrale  that  I 
was  arrived.  1  had  not  seen  her  since  her  husband's 
death.  She  soon  appeared,  and  favoured  me  with  an 
invitation  to  stay  to  dinner,  which  I  accepted.  There 
was  no  other  company  but  herself  and  three  of  her 
daughters,.  Dr.  Johnson  and  I.  She  too  said,  she  was 
very  glad  1  was  come,  for  she  was  going  to  Bath,  and 
should  have  been  sorry  to  leave  Dr.  Johnson  before  I 
came.  This  seemed  to  be  attentive  and  kind  ;  and  I 
who  had  not  been  informed  of  any  change,  imagined 
all  to  be  as  well  as  formerly.  He  was  little  inclined  to 
talk  at  dinner,  and  went  to  sleep  after  it  ;  but  when  he 
joined  us  in  the  drawing-room,  he  seemed  revived,  and 
was  again  himself. 

Talking  of  conversation,  he  said,  "There  must,  in 
the  first  place,  be  knowledge,  there  must  be  materials  ; 
— in  the  second  place,  there  must  be  a  command  of 
words; — in  the  third  place,  there  must  be  imagination, 
to  place  things  in  such  views  as  they  are  not  comaiDuly 
seen  in  ; — and  in  the  fourth  place,  there  must  be  pres- 
ence of  mind,  and  a  resolution  that  is  not  to  be  over- 
come by  failures  ;  this  last  is  an  essential  requisite  ;  for 
want  of  it  many  people  do  not  excel  in  conversation. 
Now  /  want  it ;  I  throw  up  the  game  upon  losing  a 
trick."  1  wondered  to  hear  him  talk  thus  of  himself, 
and  said,  "  I  don't  know.  Sir,  how  this  may  be  ;  but  I 
am  sure  you  beat  other  people's  cards  out  of  their  hands." 
I  doubt  whether  he  heard  this  remark.  While  we  went 
on  talking  triumphantly,  1  was  fixed  in  admiration,  and 
said  to  Mrs.  Thrale,  "  O,  for  short-hand  to  take  this 
down  !" — "  You'll  carry  it  all  in  your  head,  (said  she  ;) 
a  long  head  is  as  good  as  short-hand." 

It  has  been  observed  and  wondered  at,  that  Mr. 
Charles  Fox  never  talked  with  any  freedom  in  the  pres- 
ence of  Dr.  Johnson  ;  though  it  is  well  known,  and  I 
myself  can  witness,  that  his  conversation  is  various. 


280  THE    LIFE    OF 

i7«3.  fluent,  and  exceedingly  agreeable.  Johnson's  own  ex- 
Sat!  perience,  however,  of  that  gentleman's  reserve  was  a 
74.  sufficient  reason  for  his  going  on  thus  :  "  Fox  never 
talks  in  private  company  ;  not  from  any  determination 
not  to  talk,  but  because  he  has  not  the  first  motion.  A 
man  who  is  used  to  the  applause  of  the  House  of  Com- 
mons, has  no  wish  for  that  of  a  private  company.  A 
man  accustomed  to  throw  for  a  thousand  pounds,  if  set 
down  to  throw  for  sixpence,  would  not  be  at  the  pains 
to  count  his  dice.  Burke's  talk  is  the  ebullition  of  his 
mind  ;  he  does  not  talk  from  a  desire  of  distinction,  but 
because  his  mind  is  full." 

He  thus  curiously  characterised  one  of  our  old  ac- 
quaintance :  "  ********  is  a  good  man,  Sir  ;  but  he  is 
a  vain  man  and  a  liar.  He,  however,  only  tells  lies 
of  vanity  ;  of  victories,  for  instance,  in  conversation, 
which  never  happened."  This  alluded  to  a  story  which 
I  had  repeated  from  that  gentleman,  to  entertain  John- 
son with  its  wild  bravado  :  "  This  Johnson,  Sir,  (said 
he,)  whom  you  are  all  afraid  of,  will  shrink,  if  you  come 
close  to  him  in  argument,  and  roar  as  loud  as  he.  He 
once  maintained  the  paradox,  that  there  is  no  beauty 
but  in  utility.  '  Sir,  (said  I,)  what  sav  you  to  the  pea- 
cock's tail,  which  is  one  of  the  most  beautiful  objects 
in  nature,  but  would  have  as  much  utility  if  its  feathers 
were  all  of  one  colour.  Heje/l  what  I  thus  produced, 
and  had  recourse  to  his  usual  expedient,  ridicule  ;  ex- 
claiming, '  A  peacock  has  a  tail,  and  a  fox  has  a  tail  ;' 
and  then  he  burst  out  into  a  laugh. — '  Well,  Sir,  (said 
I,  with  a  strong  voice,  looking  him  full  in  the  face,)  you 
have  unkennelled  your  fox  ;  pursue  him  if  you  dare.' 
He  had  not  a  word  to  say.  Sir" — Johnson,  told  me, 
that  this  was  fiction  from  beginning  to  end.* 

■*  Were  I  to  insert  all  the  stories  which  have  been  told  of  contests  boldly  main- 
tained with  him,  imaginary  victories  obtained  over  him,  of  reducing  him  to  silence, 
and  of  making  him  own  that  his  antagonist  had  the  better  of  him  in  argument, 
my  volumes  would  swell  to  an  immoderate  size.  One  iHstance,  I  find,  has  circula- 
ted both  in  conversation  and  in  print ;  that  when  he  would  not  allow  the  Scotch 
writers  to  have  merit,  the  late  Dr.  Rose,  of  Chiswick.  asserted,  that  he  could  name 
one  Scotch  writer,  whom  Dr.  Jolmson  himself  would  allow  to  have  written  better 
than  any  man  of  the  age ;  and  upon  Johnson's  asking  who  it  was,  answered,  "  Lord 
Bute,  when  he  signed  the  warrant  for  your  pension."  Upon  which,  Johnson, 
struck  with  the  repartee,  acknowledged  that  this  ivas  true.  When  I  mentioned 
it  to  Johnson,  «  Sir,  Csaid  he,)  if  Rose  said  this,  I  never  heard  it." 


DR.  JOHNSON.  281 

After  musing  for  some  time,  he  said,  "I  wonder  how  ^7  83. 
I  should  have  any  enemies  ;  for  1  do  harm  to  nobody." ^  ^^ 
BoswELL.  "  In  the  first  place,  Sir,  you  will  be  pleased   74.* 
to  recollect,  that  you  set  out  with  attacking  the  Scotch  ; 
so  you  got  a  whole  nation  for  your  enemies."     John- 
son.   "  Why,   1  own,  that  by  my  definition  of  oats  I 
meant  to  vex  them."     Boswell.  "  Pray,  Sir,  can  you 
trace  the  cause  of  your  antipathy  to  the  Scotch."  John- 
son. "  1  cannot,  Sir."     Boswell.  "  Old  Mr.  Sheridan 
says,   it  was   because  they   sold   Charles  the   First." 
Johnson.  "  Then,  Sir,  old  Mr.  Sheridan  has  found  out 
a  very  good  reason." 

Surely  the  most  obstinate  and  sulky  rationality,  the 
most  determined  aversion  to  this  great  and  good  man, 
must  be  cured,  when  he  is  seen  thus  playing  with  one 
of  his  prejudices,  of  which  he  candidly  admitted  that  he 
could  not  tell  the  reason.  It  was,  however,  probably 
owing  to  his  having  had  in  his  view  the  worst  part  of 
the  Scottish  nation,  the  needy  adventurers,  many  of 
whom  he  thought  were  advanced  above  their  merits, 
by  means  which  he  did  not  approve.  Had  he  in  his 
early  life  been  in  Scotland,  and  seen  the  worthy,  sensi- 
ble, independent  gentlemen,  who  live  rationally  and 
hospitably  at  home,  he  never  could  have  entertained 
such  unfavourable  and  unjust  notions  of  his  fellow-sub- 
jects. And  accordingly  we  find,  that  when  he  did  visit 
Scotland,  in  the  latter  period  of  his  life,  he  was  fully 
sensible  of  all  that  it  deserved,  as  1  have  already  point- 
ed out,  when  speaking  of  his  "  Journey  to  the  Western 
Islands." 

Next  day,  Saturday,  March  22,  T  found  him  still  at 
Mrs.  Thrale's,  but  he  told  me  that  he  was  to  ^o  to  his 
own  house  in  the  afternoon.  He  was  better,  but  I  per- 
ceived he  was  but  an  unruly  patient,  for  Sir  Lucas 
Pepys,  who  visited  him,  while  1  was  with  him  said,  "  If 
you  were  tractable^  Sir,  I  should  prescribe  for  you." 

I  related  to  him  a  remark  which  a  respectable  friend 

'^  This  reflection  was  very  natural  in  a  man  of  a  good  heart,  who  was  not  con- 
scious of  any  ill-will  to  mankind,  though  the  sharp  sayings  which  were  sometimes 
produced  by  his  discrimination  and  vivacity,  which  he  perhaps  did  not  recollect, 
were,  I  am  afraid,  too  ofter  remembered  with  resentment. 

VOL.  TIT.  36 


282  THE    LIFE    OF 

1783.  had  made  to  die,  upon  the  then  state  of  Government, 
SuT  ^^^^^"  those  who  had  been  long  in  opposition  had  attain- 
74.  ed  to  power,  as  it  was  supposed,  against  the  incHnaiion 
of  the  Sovereign.  "  You  need  not  be  uneasy  (said  this 
gentleman)  about  the  King.  He  laughs  at  them  all  ; 
he  plays  them  one  against  another."  Johnson.  "Don't 
think  so.  Sir.  The  King  is  as  much  oppressed  as  a  man 
can  be.  If  he  plays  them  one  against  another,  he  wins 
nothing." 

1  had  paid  a  visit  to  General  Oglethorpe  in  the  morn- 
ing, and  was  told  by  him  that  Dr.  Johnson  saw  company 
on  Saturday  evenings,  and  he  would  meet  me  at  John- 
son's that  night.  When  I  mentioned  this  to  Johnson, 
not  doubting  that  it  would  please  him,  as  he  had  a  great 
value  for  Oglethorpe,  the  fretfulness  of  his  disease  un- 
expectedly shewed  itself;  his  anger  suddenly  kindled, 
and  he  said,  with  vehemence,  "  Did  not  you  tell  him 
not  to  come  ]  Am  I  to  be  hitntedm  this  manner  ?"  1  sat- 
isfied him  that  I  could  not  divine  that  the  visit  would 
not  be  convenient,  and  that  I  certainly  could  not  take 
it  upon  me  of  my  own  accord  to  forbid  the  General. 

I  found  Dr.  Johnson  in  the  evening  in  Mrs.  Wil- 
liams's room,  at  tea  and  coffee  with  her  and  Mrs. 
Desmoulins,  who  were  also  both  ill  ;  it  was  a  sad  scene, 
and  he  was  not  in  a  very  good  humour.  He  said  of  a 
performance  that  had  lately  come  out,  "  Sir,  if  you 
should  search  all  the  madhouses  in  England,  you  vvpuld 
not  find  ten  men  who  would  write  so,  and  think  it 
sense." 

1  was  glad  when  General  Oglethorpe's  arrival  was 
announced,  and  we  left  the  ladies.  Dr.  Johnson  at- 
tended him  in  the  parlour,  and  was  as  courteous  as 
ever.  The  General  said,  he  was  busy  reading  the  writ- 
ers of  the  middle  age.  Johnson  said  they  were  very 
curious.  Oglethorpe.  "  The  House  of  Commons 
has  usurped  the  power  of  the  nation's  money,  and  used 
it  tyrannically.  Government  is  now  carried  on  by 
corrupt  influence,  instead  of  the  inherent  right  in  the 
King."  Johnson.  "  Sir,  the  want  of  inherent  right  in 
the  King  occasions  all  this  disturbance.  What  we  did 
at  the  Revolution  was  necessary  :  but  it  broke  our 


DR.    JOHNSON.  983 

constitution."^     Oglethorpe.   "  My  father  did   not  '783. 
think  it  necessary."  ^EtaT. 

On  Sunday,  March  23,  I  breakfasted  with  Dr.  John-  74. 
son,  who  seemed  much  relieved,  having  taken  opium 
the  night  before.  He  however  protested  against  it,  as 
a  remedy  that  should  be  given  with  the  utmost  reluc- 
tance, and  only  in  extreme  necessity.  I  mentioned 
how  commonly  it  was  used  in  Turkey,  and  that  there- 
fore it  could  not  be  so  pernicious  as  he  apprehended. 
He  grew  warm,  and  said,  "  Turks  take  opium,  and 
Christians  take  opium  ;  but  Russei,  in  his  account  of 
Aleppo,  tells  us,  that  it  is  as  disgraceful  in  Turkey  to 
take  too  much  opium,  as  it  is  with  us  to  get  drunk. 
Sir,  it  is  amazing  how  things  are  exaggerated.  A  gen- 
tleman was  lately  telling  in  a  company  where  1  was 
present,  that  in  France  as  soon  as  a  man  of  fashion 
marries,  he  takes  an  opera  girl  into  keeping  ;  and  this 
he  mentioned  as  a  general  custom.  '  t'ray.  Sir,  (said 
I,)  how  many  opera  girls  may  there  be  V  He  an- 
swered, '  About  fourscore.'  '  Well  then.  Sir,  (said  I,) 
you  see  there  can  be  no  more  than  fourscore  men  of 
fashion  who  can  do  this." 

Mrs.  Desmoulins  made  tea  ;  and  she  and  I  talked 
before  him  upon  a  topick  which  he  had  once  borne 
patiently  from  me  when  we  were  by  ourselves, — his 
not  complaining  of  the  world,  because  he  was  not 
called  to  some  great  office,  nor  had  attained  to  great 
wealth.  He  flew  into  a  violent  passion,  1  confess  with 
some  justice,  and  commanded  us  to  have  done,  "  No- 
body, (said  he)  has  a  right  to  talk  in  this  manner,  to 
bring  before  a  man  his  own  character,  and  the  events 
of  his  life,  when  he  does  not  choose  it  should  be  done. 
I  never  have  sought  the  world  ;  the  world  was  not  to 
seek  me.  It  is  rather  wonderful  that  so  much  has  been 
done  for  me.  All  the  complaints  which  are  made  of 
the  world  are  unjust.     1  never  knew  a  man  of  merit 

'  I  have,  in  my  "  Journal  of  a  Tour  to  the  Hebrides,"  fully  expressed  my  senti- 
ments upon  this  subject.  The  Revolution  was  necessary,  but  not  a  subject  ior  glory ; 
because  it  for  a  long  time  blasted  the  generous  feelings  of  Loyalty.  And  now, 
when  by  the  benignant  effect  of  time  the  present  Royal  Family  are  established  in 
our  affections,  how  unwise  is  it  to  revive  by  celebrations  the  memory  of  a  shock, 
which  it  would  purely  have  been  better  that  our  constitution  had  not  required. 


284  THE    LIFE    OF 

1783.  neglected  :  it  was  generally  by  his  own  fault  that  he 
''^^  failed  of  success.  A  man  may  hide  his  head  in  a  hole  : 
74.  he  may  go  into  the  country,  and  publish  a  book  now 
and  then,  which  nobody  reads,  and  then  complain  he  is 
neglected.  There  is  no  reason  why  any  person  should 
exert  himself  for  a  man  who  has  written  a  good  book  : 
he  has  not  written  it  for  any  individual.  1  may  as  well 
make  a  present  to  the  postman  who  brings  me  a  letter. 
When  patronage  was  limited,  an  authour  expected  to 
find  a  Maecenas,  and  complained  if  he  did  not  find  one. 
Why  should  he  complain  ?  This  Maecenas  has  others 
as  good  as  he,  or  others  who  have  got  the  start  of  him." 
BoswELL.  "  But  Surely,  Sir,  you  will  allow  that  there 
are  men  of  merit  at  the  bar,  who  never  get  practice.'^ 
Johnson.  "  Sir,  you  are  sure  that  practice  is  got  from 
an  opinion  that  the  person  employed  deserves  it  best  ; 
so  that  if  a  man  of  merit  at  the  bar  does  not  get  practice, 
it  is  from  errour,  not  from  injustice.  He  is  not  ne- 
glected. A  horse  that  is  brought  to  market  may  not 
be  bought,  though  he  is  a  very  good  horse  :  but  that 
is  from  ignorance,  not  from  intention." 

There  was  in  this  discourse  much  novelty,  ingenuity, 
and  discrimination,  such  as  is  seldom  to  be  found.  Yet 
I  cannot  help  thinking  that  men  of  merit,  who  have  no 
success  in  life,  may  be  forgiven  for  lamenting^  if  they 
are  not  allowed  to  complain.  They  may  consider  it  as 
hard  that  their  merit  should  not  have  its  suitable  dis- 
tinction. Though  there  is  no  intentional  injustice  to- 
wards them  on  the  part  of  the  world,  their  merit  not 
having  been  perceived,  they  may  yet  repine  against 
Jortune^  or  Jate^  or  by  whatever  name  they  choose  to 
call  the  supposed  mythological  power  of  Destiny.  It 
has,  however,  occurred  to  me,  as  a  consolatory  thought, 
that  men  of  merit  should  consider  thus  : — How  much 
harder  would  it  be,  if  the  same  persons  had  both  all  the 
merit  and  all  the  prosperity.  Would  not  this  be  a" 
miserable  distribution  for  the  poor  dunces  ?  Would 
men  of  merit  exchange  their  intellectual  superiority, 
and  the  enjoyments  arising  from  it,  for  external  dis- 
tinction and  the  pleasures  of  wealth  ?  If  they  would 
not,  let  them  not  envy  others,  who  are  poor  where  they 


DR.   JOHNSON.  285 

are  rich,  a  compensation  which  is  made  to  them.     Let  '783. 
them  look  inwards  and  be  satisfied  ;  recollecting  with  ^^, 
conscious  pride  what  Virgil  finely  says  of  the  Corycius   74. 
Se/iex\  and  which  1  have,  in  another  place,'  with  truth 
and  sincerity  applied  to  Mr.  Burke  : 

"  Regum  cequabat  opes  an^mis." 

On  the  subject  of  the  right  employment  of  wealth, 
Johnson  observed,  "  A  man  cannot  make  a  bad  use 
of  his  money,  so  far  as  regards  Society,  if  he  do  not 
hoard  it  ;  for  if  he  either  spends  it  or  lends  it  out,  So- 
ciety has  the  benefit.  It  is  in  general  better  to  spend 
money  than  to  give  it  away  ;  for  industry  is  more  pro- 
moted by  spending  money  than  by  giving  it  away.  A 
man  who  spends  his  money  is  sure  he  is  doing  good 
with  it :  he  is  not  so  sure  when  he  gives  it  away.  A 
man  who  spends  ten  thousand  a  year  will  do  more 
good  than  a  man  who  spends  two  thousand  and  gives 
away  eight." 

In  the  evening  I  came  to  him  again.  He  was  some- 
what fretful  from  his  illness.  A  gentleman  asked  him 
whether  he  had  been  abroad  to-day.  "  Don't  talk  so 
childishly,  (said  he.)  You  may  as  well  ask  if  i  hanged 
myself  to-day."  1  mentioned  politicks.  Johnson. 
"  Sir,  I'd  as  soon  have  a  man  to  break  my  bones  as 
talk  to  me  of  publick  affairs,  internal  or  external.  I 
have  lived  to  see  things  all  as  bad  as  they  can  be." 

Having  mentioned  his  friend,  the  second  Lord  * 
Southwell,  he  said,  "  Lord  Southwell  was  the  highest- 
bred  man  without  insolence,  that  I  ever  was  in  com- 
pany with  ;  the  most  guulitied  I  ever  saw.  Lord  Or- 
rery was  not  dignified  ;  Lord  Chesterfield  was,  but  he 
was  insolent.  Lord  *********  is  a  man  of  coarse 
manners,  but  a  man  of  abilities  and  information.  I 
don't  say  he  is  a  man  I  would  set  at  the  head  of  a 
nation,  though  perhaps  he  may  be  as  good  as  the  next 
Prime  Minister  that  comes  ;  but  he  is  a  man  to  be  at 
the  head  of  a  Club  ; — I  don't  say  oitr  Club  ; — for 
there's  no  such  Club."     Boswell.  "  But,  Sir,  was  he 

'  Letter  to  the  People  of  Scotland  against  the  Attempt  to  diminish  the  Number 
of  the  Lords  of  Session,  1785. 


286  THE    LIFE    OF 

1783.  not  once  a  factious  man  ?"    Johnson.  "  O  yes,  Sir  ; 

^^g^^  as  factious  a  fellow  as  could  be  found  :  one  who  was 

74,   for  sinking  us  all   into  the  mob."     Boswell.  "  How 

then,  Sir,  did   he  get  into  favour  with  the  King  ?" 

Johnson.  "  Because,  Sir,  1  suppose  he  promised  the 

King  to  do  whatever  the  King  pleased." 

He  said,  "  Goldsmith's  blundering  speech  to  Lord 
Shelburne,  which  has  been  so  often  mentioned,  and 
which  he  really  did  make  to  him,  was  only  a  blunder 
in  emphasis  : — '  1  wonder  they  should  call  your  Lord- 
ship Maktgrida,  for  Malagrida  was  a  very  good  man  ;' 
— meant,  1  wonder  they  should  use  Malagrida  as  a 
term  of  reproach." 

Soon  after  this  time  I  had  an  opportunity  of  seeing, 
by  means  of  one  of  his  friends,  a  proof  that  his  talents, 
as  well  as  his  obliging  service  to  authours,  were  ready 
as  ever.  He  had  revised  "  The  Village,"  an  admirable 
poem,  by  the  Reverend  Mr.  Crabbe.  Its  sentiments 
as  to  the  false  notions  of  rustick  happiness  and  rustick 
virtue,  were  quite  congenial  with  his  own  ;  and  he 
had  taken  the  trouble  not  only  to  suggest  slight  cor- 
rections and  variations,  but  to  furnish  some  lines,  when 
he  thought  he  could  give  the  writer's  meaning  better 
than  in  the  words  of  the  manuscript.^ 

On  Sunday,  March  30,  I  found  him  at  home  in  the 
evening,  and  had  the  pleasure  to  meet  with  Dr.  Brock- 

*  I  shall  give  an  instance,  marking  the  original  by  Roman,  and  Johnson's  sub- 
stitution in  Itallck  characters  : 

"  In  fairer  scenes,  where  peaceful  pleasures  spring, 
"  Tityrus,  the  pride  of  Mantuan  swains,  might  sing 
"  But  charmed  by  him,  or  smitten  with  his  views, 
"  Shall  modern  poets  court  the  Mantuan  muse  ? 
"  From  Truth  and  Nature  shall  we  widely  stray, 
"  Where  Fancy  leads,  or  Virgil  led  the  way  :" 

"  On  Mincws  banks,  in  Casar's  bounteous  rei^n, 

"  If  Tityrus  found  the  golden  age  again, 

"  Must  sleepy  bards  the  fiattering  dream  prolong, 

"  Mechanick  echoes  of  the  Mantuan  song  ? 

"  From  Truth  and  Nature  shall  we  widely  stray, 

"  Where  Virgil,  not  "where  Fancy,  leads  the  ivay  ?' 

Here  we  find  Johnson's  poetical  and  critical  powers  undiminished.  1  must, 
however,  observe  that  the  aids  he  gave  to  this  poem,  and  to  "  The  Traveller"and 
"  Deserted  Village"  of  Goldsmith,  were  so  small  as  by  no  means  to  impair  the  dis- 
tinguishing merit  of  the  authour. 


DR.   JOHNSON.  287 

lesby,  whose  reading,  and  knowledge  of  life,  and  good  i783. 
spirits,  supply  him  with  a  never-failing  source  of  conver-  ^taT 
sation.     He  mentioned  a  respectable  gentleman,   who   74.  * 
became  extremely  penurious  near  the  close  of  his  life. 
Johnson  said  there  must  have  been  a  degree  of  madness 
about  him.     "  Not  at  all.  Sir,  (said  Dr.  Brocklesby,)  his 
judgement  was  entire."     Unluckily,  however,  he  men- 
tioned that  although  he  had  a  fortune  of  twenty-seven 
thousand   pounds,   he  denied  himself  many  comforts, 
from  an  apprehension   that  he   could  not  afford  them. 
"  Nay,  Sir,  (cried  Johnson,)  when   the  judgement  is  so 
disturbed  that  a  man  cannot  count,  that  is  pretty  well." 

1  shall  here  insert  a  few  of  Johnson^s  sayings,  without 
the  formality  of  dates,  as  they  have  no  reference  to  any 
particular  time  or  place. 

"  The  more  a  man  extends  and  varies  his  acquaint- 
ance the  better."  This,  however,  was  meant  with  a 
just  restriction  ;  for,  he  on  another  occasion  said  tome, 
"  Sir,  a  man  may  be  so  much  of  every  thing,  that  he  is 
nothing  of  any  thing." 

"  Raising  the  wages  of  day-labourers  is  wrong  ;  for  it 
does  not  make  them  live  better,  but  onlv  makes  them 
idler,  and  idleness  is  a  very  bad  thing  for  human  nature." 

"  It  is  a  very  good  custom  to  keep  a  journal  for  a 
man's  own  use  ;  he  may  write  upon  a  card  a  day  all 
that  is  necessary  to  be  written,  after  he  has  had  expe- 
rience of  life.  At  first  there  is  a  great  deal  to  be  writ- 
ten, because  there  is  a  great  deal  of  novelty  ;  but  when 
once  a  man  has  settled  his  opinions,  there  is  seldom 
much  to  be  set  down." 

"  There  is  nothing  wonderful  in  the  Journal^  which 

'  [In  his  Life  of  Swift,  he  thus  speaks  of  this  Journal : 

"  In  the  midst  of  his  power  and  his  politicks,  he  kept  a  journal  of  his  visits,  his 
walks,  his  interviews  with  ministers,  and  quarrels  with  his  servant,  and  transmitted 
it  to  Mrs.  Johnson  and  Mrs.  Dingley,  to  whom  he  knew  that  whatever  befell  him 
was  interesting,  and  no  account  could  be  too  minute.  Whether  these  diurnal  trifles 
were  properly  exposed  to  eyes  which  had  never  received  any  pleasure  from  the 
Dean,  may  be  reasonably  doubted  :  they  have,  however,  some  odd  attractions  :  the 
reader  finding  frequent  mention  of  names  wliich  he  has  been  used  to  consider  as 
important,  goes  on  in  hope  of  information ;  and  as  there  is  nothing  to  fatigue  atten- 
tion, if  he  is  disappointed,  he  can  hardly  complain." 

It  may  be  added,  that  the  reader  not  only  hopes  to  find,  but  does  find,  in  this  very 
entertaining  Journal,  much  curious  information,  respecting  persons  and  thin^, 
which  he  will  in  vain  seek  for  in  otber  bvoks  ef  the  same  peried.    M.] 


288  THE    LIFE    OF 

1783.  we  see  Swift  kept  in  London,  for  it  contains  slight  top- 

"k^  icks,  and  it  might  soon  be  written." 
74  *  1  praised  the  accuracy  of  an  account-book  of  a  lady 
whom  1  mentioned.  Johnson.  "  Keeping  accounts, 
Sir,  is  of  no  use  when  a  man  is  spending  his  own  money, 
and  has  nobody  to  whom  he  is  to  account.  V'ou  won't 
eat  less  beef  to-day,  because  you  have  written  down 
what  it  cost  yesterday."  1  mentioned  another  lady  who 
thought  as  he  did,  so  that  her  husband  could  not  get 
her  to  keep  an  account  of  the  expence  of  the  family,  as 
she  thought  it  enough  that  she  never  exceeded  the  sum 
allowed  her.  Johnson.  "  Sir,  it  is  fit  she  should  keep 
an  account,  because  her  husband  wishes  it ;  but  I  do 
not  see  its  use."  1  maintained  that  keeping  an  account 
has  this  advantage,  that  it  satisfies  a  man  that  his  money 
has  not  been  lost  or  stolen,  which  he  might  sometimes 
be  apt  to  imagine,  were  there  no  written  state  of  his  ex- 
pence  ;  and  besides,  a  calculation  of  economy  so  as  not 
to  exceed  one's  income,  cannot  be  made  without  a  view 
of  the  different  articles  in  figures,  that  one  may  see  how 
to  retrench  in  some  particulars  less  necessary  than 
others.     This  he  did  not  attempt  to  answer. 

Talking  of  an  acquaintance  of  ours,  whose  narratives, 
which  abounded  in  curious  and  interesting  topicks, 
were  unhappily  found  to  be  very  fabulous  ;  1  mentioned 
Lord  Mansfield's  having  said  to  me,  "' Jiuppose  we  be- 
lieve one  ha/fof  what  he  tells."  Johnson.  "  Ay  ;  but 
we  don't  know  which  half  to  believe.  By  his  lying  we 
lose  not  only  our  reverence  for  him,  but  all  comfort  in 
his  conversation."  Boswell.  "  May  we  not  take  it  as 
amusing  fiction?"  Johnson.  "Sir,  the  misfortune  is, 
that  you  will  insensibly  believe  as  much  of  it  as  you  in- 
cline to  believe." 

It  is  remarkable,  that  notwithstanding  their  congeni- 
ality in  politicks,  he  never  was  acquairjted  with  a  late 
eminent  noble  judge,  whom  I  have  heard  speak  of  him 
as  a  writer,  with  great  respect.  Johnson,  1  know  not 
upon  what  degree  of  investigation,  entertained  no  ex- 
alted opinion  of  his  Lordship's  intellectual  character. 
Talking  of  him  to  me  one  day,  he  said,  "■  It  is  wonder- 
ful. Sir,  with  how  little  real  superiority  of  mind  men 


DR.   JOHNSON.  289 

can  make  an  eminent  figure  in  publick  life."     He  ex-  ^"^^• 
pressed  himself  to  the  same  purpose  concerning  another  Mt^, 
law-lord,  who,  it  seems,  once  took  a  fancy  to  associate   74. 
with  the  wits  of  London  ;  but   with   so  little  success, 
that  Foote  said,  "  What  can  he  mean  by  coming  among 
us?  He  is  not  only  dull  himself,  but  the  cause  of  dull- 
ness in  others."     Trying  him  by   the  test  of  his  collo- 
quial powers,  Johnson  had  found  him   very  defective. 
He  once  said  to  Sir  Joshua  Reynolds,  "  This  man  now 
has  been  ten  years  about  town,  and  has  made  nothing 
of  it ;"  meaning  as  a  companion.'      He  said  to  me,  "  I 
never  heard  any  thing  from  him  in  company  that  was 
at  all  striking ;  and  depend  upon  it.  Sir,  it  is  when  you 
come  close  to  a  man  in  conversation,  that  you  discover 
what  his  real  abilities  are  :  to  make  a  speech  in  a  pub- 
lick  assembly  is  a  knack.     Now  1  honour  Thurlow,  Sir; 
Thurlow  is  a  fine  fellow  ;  he  fairly  puts  his  mind  to 
yours." 

After  repeating  to  him  some  of  his  pointed,  lively 
sayings,  I  said,  "  it  is  a  pity,  Sir,  you  don't  always  re- 
member your  own  good  things,  that  you  may  have  a 
laugh  when  you  will."  Johnson.  "  Nay,  Sir,  it  is  better 
that  1  forget  them,  that  I  may  be  reminded  of  them, 
and  have  a  laugh  on  their  being  brought  to  my  recol- 
lection." 

When  I  recalled  to  him  his  having  said  as  we  sailed 
up  Lochlomond,  "  That  if  he  wore  any  thing  fine,  it 
should  be  veri/  fine  ;"  I  observed  that  all  his  thoughts 
were  upon  a  great  scale.  Johnson.  "  Depend  upon 
it.  Sir,  every  man  will  have  as  fine  a  thing  as  he  can 
get ;  as  large  a  diamond  for  his  ring."  Boswell.  "  Par- 
don me.  Sir :  a  man  of  a  narrow  mind  will  not  think  of 
it,  a  slight  trinket  will  satisfy  him  : 

^^  Nee  su/ferre  queat  majoris  pondera  gemmce" 

I  told  him  1  should  send  him  some  "  Essays"  which 

>  Knowing  as  well  as  I  do  what  precision  and  elegance  of  oratory  his  Lordship 
can  display,  I  cannot  but  suspect  that  his  unfavourable  appearance  in  a  social  cir- 
cle, which  drew  such  animadversions  upon  him,  must  be  owing  to  a  cold  affectation 
of  consequence,  from  being  reserved  and  stiff.  If  it  be  so,  and  he  might  be  aj)  agree- 
able man  if  he  would,  we  cannot  be  sorry  that  he  misses  his  ain),' 

VOL.   IIT,  37 


'290  THE    LIFE    OF 

1783.  I  had  written,-  which  I  hoped  he  would  be  so  good  as 
^ut^  ^^  read,  and  pick  out  the  good  ones.     Johnson.  "  Nay, 
74.    Sir,  send  me  only  the  good  ones  ;  don't  make  7ne  pick 
them." 

1  heard  him  once  say,  "  Though  the  proverb  '  Nullum 
numen  abest^  si  sit  prudential  does  not  always  prove 
true,  we  may  be  certain  of  the  converse  of  it,  Nullum 
numen  adest^  si  sit  imprudentia" 

Once,  when  Mr.  Seward  was  going  to  Bath,  and  ask- 
ed his  commands,  he  said,  "  Tell  Dr.  Harrington  that 
1  wish  he  would  publish  another  volume  of  the  '  Nugce 
antiquce  /'^  it  is  a  very  pretty  book."*  Mr.  Seward  sec- 
onded this  wish,  and  recommended  to  Dr.  Harrington 
to  dedicate  it  to  Johnson,  and  take  for  his  motto,  what 
Catullus  says  to  Cornelius  Nepos  : 

namque  tu  solehas. 


"  Meets  esse  aliquid putare  NUGAS." 

As  a  small  proof  of  his  kindliness  and  delicacy  of  feel- 
ing, the  following  circumstance  may  be  mentioned  : 
One  evening  when  we  were  in  the  street  together,  and 
1  told  him  I  was  going  to  sup  at  Mr.  Beauclerk's,  he 
said,  "  I'll  go  with  you."  After  having  walked  part  of 
the  way,  seeming  to  recollect  something,  he  suddenly 
stopped  and  said,  "  i  cannot  go, — but  /  do  not  love 
Beauclerk  the  less" 

On  the  frame  of  his  portrait,  Mr.  Beauclerk  had  in- 
scribed, 

" Ingenium  ingens 

"  Inculto  latet  hoc  sub  corpore" 

After  Mr.  Beauclerk's  death,  when  it  became  Mr.  Lang- 
ton's  property,  he  made  the  inscription  be  defaced. 
Johnson   said   complacently,    "  It  was  kind  in  you  to 

^  [Under  the  title  of  "  The  Hypochondriack."     M.] 

'  It  has  since  appeared. 

*  [A  new  and  greatly  improved  edition  of  this  very  curious  collection  was  pub- 
lished by  Mr.  Park  in  1804,  in  two  volumes,  octavo.  In  this  edition  the  letters  are 
chronologically  arranged,  and  the  account  of  the  Bishops,  which  was  formerly  print- 
ed from  a  very  corrupt  copy,  is  taken  from  Sir  John  Harrington's  original  manu- 
script, which  he  presented  to  Henry,  Prince  of  Wales,  and  is  now  in  the  Royal  Li- 
brary in  the  Museum.    M.] 


DR.   JOHNSON.  291 

take  it  off;  and  then  after  a  short  pause,  added,  "  and  17B3. 
not  unkind  in  him  to  put  it  on."  itaT. 

He  said,  "  How  few  of  his  friends^   houses  would  a   74. 
man  choose  to  be  at,  when  he  is  sick  !"     He  mention- 
ed one  or  two.     1  recollect  only  Thrale's. 

He  observed,  "  There  is  a  wicked  inclination  in  most 
people  to  suppose  an  old  man  decayed  in  his  intellects. 
If  a  young  or  middle-aged  man,  when  leaving  a  com- 
pany, does  not  recollect  where  he  laid  his  hat,  it  is  noth- 
ing ;  but  if  the  same  inattention  is  discovered  in  an  old 
man,  people  will  shrug  up  their  shoulders,  and  say, 
*  His  memory  is  going." 

When  1  once  talked  to  him  of  some  of  the  sayings 
which  every  body  repeats,  but  nobody  knows  where  to 
find,  such  as,  Quos  Deus  vult  perdere^  prius  dementat ; 
he  told  me  that  he  was  once  offered  ten  guineas  to  point 
out  from  whence  Semel  insanivimus  omnes  was  taken. 
He  could  not  do  it ;  but  many  years  afterwards  met 
■with  it  by  chance  in  Johannes  Baptista  Mantuanus.^ 

'  [The  words  occur,  (as  Mr.  Bindley  observes  to  me,)  in  the  First  Eclogue  of  Man- 
tuanus,  De  bonesto  Amore,  iSfc. 

Id  commune  malum  ;  semel  insanivimus  omnes. 

With  the  following  elucidation  of  the  other  sapng — Q,uos  Deus  (it  should  rather  be — 
Quern  Jupiter)  vult perdere,prius  dementat — Mr.Bosweli  was  furnished  by  Mr.  Richard 
How,  of  Aspley,  in  Bedfordshire,  as  communicated  to  that  gentleman  by  his  fiiend 
Mr.  John  Pitts,  late  Rector  of  Great  Brickhill,  in  Buckinghamshire  : 

"  Perhaps  no  scrap  of  Latin  whatever  has  been  more  quoted  than  this.  It  occa- 
sionally falls  even  from  those  who  are  scrupulous  even  to  pedantry  in  their Latinity, 
and  will  not  admit  a  word  into  their  compositions,  which  has  not  the  sanctiun  of 
the  first  age.  The  word  demento  is  of  no  authority,  either  as  a  verb  active  or  neu- 
ter.— After  a  long  search  for  the  purpose  of  deciding  a  bet,  some  gentlemen  of 
Cambridge  found  it  among  the  fragments  of  Euripides,  in  what  edition  I  do  not 
recollect,  where  it  is  given  as  a  translation  of  a  Greek  lambick  -. 

"  The  above  scrap  was  found  in  the  hand-writing  of  a  suicide  of  fashion,  Sir  D.  O. 
some  years  ago,  lying  on  the  table  of  the  room  where  he  had  destroyed  liimself. 
The  suicide  was  a  man  of  classical  acquirements :  he  left  no  other  paper  behind 
him." — 

Another  of  these  proverbial  sayings — 

Incidit  in  Scyllam,  cupiens  vitare  Charyidim, 
some  years  ago,  in  a  Note  on  a  passage  in  The  Merchant  of  Venice,  traced 
^o  its  source.     It  occurs  (with  a  slight  variation)   in  the   Alexandreis  of  Philip 
Gualtier,  (a  poet  of  the  thirteenth  century)  which  was  printed  at  Lyons  in  1558, 
Darius  is  the  person  addressed  : 

Quo  tendis  inertem. 

Rex  periture,  fugam  ?  nescis,  heu  !  perdite,  nescis 
Quem  fugias  :  hostes  incurris  dum  fugis  hostem  j 
Incidit  in  Scyllam,  cupitns  ■yitare  Charybdim, 


29^  THE    LIFE    OF 

1783.  I  am  very  sorry  that  I  did  not  take  a  note  of  an  elo* 
^J^queiit  argument  in  which  he  maintained  that  the  situ- 
74.  '  ation  of  Prince  of  Wales  was  the  happiest  of  any  per- 
son's in  the  kingdom,  even  beyond  that  of  the  Sove- 
reign. 1  recollect  only — the  enjoyment  of  hope, — the 
high  superiority  of  rank,  without  the  anxious  cares  of 
government, — and  a  great  degree  of  power,  both  from 
natural  influence  wisely  used,  and  from  the  sanguine 
expectations  of  those  who  look  forward  to  the  chance 
of  future  favour. 

Sir  Joshua  Reynolds  communicated  to  me  the  follow- 
ing particulars : 

Johnson  thought  the  poems  published  as  translations 
from  Ossian,  had  so  little  merit,  that  he  said,  "  Sir,  a 
man  might  write  such  stuff  for  ever,  if  he  would  aban- 
don his  mind  to  it." 

He  said,  "  A  man  should  pass  a  part  of  his  time  with 
the  /augi/ers,  by  which  means  any  thing  ridiculous  or 
particular  about  him  might  be  presented  to  his  view, 
and  corrected."  I  observed,  he  must  have  been  a  bold 
laugher  who  would  have  ventured  to  tell  Dr.  Johnson 
of  any  of  his  particularities.^ 

Having  observed  the  vain  ostentatious  importance  of 
many  people  in  quoting  the  authority  of  Dukes  and 
Lords,  as  having  been  in  their  company,  he  said,  he 
went  to  the  other  extreme,  and  did  not  mention  his 
authority  when  he  should  have  done  it,  had  it  not  been 
that  of  a  Duke  or  a  Lord. 

Dr.  Goldsmith  said  once  to  Dr.  Johnson,  that  he 
wished  for  some  additional  membiers  to  the  Literary 

The  author  of  this  line  was  first  ascertained  by  Galleottus  Martius,  who  died 
in  1476  ;  as  is  observed  in  AIenagiana,  vol.  iii.  p.  130.  edit.  1762. — For  an  ac- 
count of  Philip  Gualtier,  see  Vossius  de  Poet.  Latin,  p.  254,  fol,  1697. 

A  line  not  less  frequently  quoted  than  any  of  the  preceding,  was  suggested  for 
enquiry,  several  years  ago,  in  a  Note  on  The  Rape  of  Lucrece  : 

Solamen  miseiis  soclos  bahuisse  doloris  ——  : 

But  the  author  of  this  verse  has  not,  I  believe,  been  discovered.     M.] 

"  I  am  happy,  however,  to  mention  a  pleasing  instance  of  his  enduring  with 
great  gentleness  to  hear  one  of  his  most  striking  particularities  pointed  out : — Miss 
Hunter,  a  niece  of  his  friend  Christopher  Smart,  when  a  very  young  girl,  struck 
by  his  extraordinary  motions,  said  to  him,  "  Pray,  Dr.  Johnson,  why  do  you  make 
such  strange  gestures  1" — "From  bad  habit,  (he  replied.)  Do  you,  my  dear,  take 
eare  to  guard  against  bad  habits."  This  I  was  told  by  the  young  lady's  brother 
af  Margate. 


DR.   JOHNSON.  293 

Club,  to  give  it  an  agreeable  variety  ;  for  (said  he,)  i/^s. 
there  can  now   be  nothing  new  among  us  :  we  have  ^'^ 
travelled  over  one  another's  minds.     Johnson  seemed   74. 
a  little  angry,   and  said,  "  Sir,  you  have  not  travelled 
over  my  mind,  I  promise  you."     Sir  Joshua,  however, 
thought  Goldsmith  right   ;    observing,    that    '•   when 
people  have  lived  a  great  deal  together,   they  know 
what  each  of  them  will  say  on   every  subject.      A 
new  understanding,  therefore,  is  desirable  ;    because 
though  it   may  only  furnish   the  same  sense  upon  a 
question   which  would  have  been  furnished  by  those 
with  whom  we  are  accustomed  to  live,  yet  this  sense 
will   have  a  different  colouring  ;  and  colouring  is  of 
much  effect  in  every  thing  else  as  well  as  in  painting." 

Johnson  used  to  say  that  he  made  it  a  constant  rule 
to  talk  as  well  as  he  could  both  as  to  sentiment  and 
expression,  by  which  means,  what  had  been  originally 
effort  became  familiar  and  easy.  The  consequence  of 
this.  Sir  Joshua  observed,  was,  that  his  common  con- 
versation in  all  companies  was  such  as  to  secure  him 
universal  attention,  as  something  above  the  usual  col- 
loquial style  was  expected. 

Yet,  though  Johnson  had  this  habit  in  company, 
when  another  mode  was  necessary,  in  order  to  investi- 
gate truth,  he  could  descend  to  a  language  intelligible 
to  the  meanest  capacity.  An  instance  of  this  was  wit- 
nessed by  Sir  Joshua  Reynolds,  when  they  were  present 
at  an  examination  of  a  little  black-guard  boy,  by  Mr. 
Saunders  Welch,  the  late  Westminster  Justice.  Welch, 
who  imagined  that  he  was  exalting  himself  in  Dr. 
Johnson's  eyes  by  using  big  words,  spoke  in  a  manner 
that  was  utterly  unintelligible  to  the  boy  ;  Dr.  Johnson 
perceiving  it,  addressed  himself  to  the  boy,  and  chang- 
ed the  pompous  phraseology  into  colloquial  language. 
Sir  Joshua  Reynolds,  who  was  much  amused  by  this 
procedure,  which  seemed  a  kind  of  reversing  of  what 
might  have  been  expected  from  the  two  men,  took 
notice  of  it  to  Dr.  Johnson,  as  they  walked  away  by 
themselves.  Johnson  said,  that  it  was  continually  the 
case  ;  and  that  he  was  always  obliged  to  translate  the 
Justice's   swelling   diction,    (smiling,)    so  as  that   his 


294  THE    LIFE    OP 

1783.  meaning  might  be  understood   by  the  vulgar,   from 

^^^  whom  information  was  to  be  obtained. 

74.  '  Sir  Joshua  once  observed  to  him,  that  he  had  talked 
above  the  capacity  of  some  people  with  whom  they  had 
been  in  company  together.  "  No  matter,  Sir,  (said 
Johnson  ;)  they  consider  it  as  a  coniphment  to  be 
talked  to,  as  if  they  were  wiser  than  they  are.  So  true 
is  this.  Sir,  that  Baxter  made  it  a  rule  in  every  sermon 
that  he  preached,  to  say  something  that  was  above  the 
capacity  of  his  audience."^ 

Johnson's  dexterity  in  retort,  when  he  seemed  to  be 
driven  to  an  extremity  by  his  adversary,  was  very  re- 
markable. Of  his  power  in  this  respect,  our  common 
friend,  Mr.  Windham,  of  Norfolk,  has  been  pleased  to 
furnish  me  with  an  eminent  instance.  However  un- 
favourable to  Scotland,  he  uniformly  gave  liberal  praise 
to  George  Buchanan,  as  a  writer.  In  a  conversation 
concerning  the  literary  merits  of  the  two  countries,  in 
which  Buchanan  was  introduced,  a  Scotchman,  imagin- 
ing that  on  this  ground  he  should  have  an  undoubted 
triumph  over  him,  exclaimed,  "  Ah,  Dr.  Johnson,  what 
would  you  have  said  of  Buchanan,  had  he  been  an 
Englishman  I" — "  AVhy,  Sir,  (said  Johnson,  after  a 
little  pause,)  1  should  not  have  said  of  Buchanan,  had 
he  been  an  Englishman^  what  I  will  now  say  of  him  as 
a  Scotchman^ — that  he  was  the  only  man  of  genius  his 
country  ever  produced." 

And  this  brings  to  my  recollection  another  instance 
of  the  same  nature.  1  once  reminded  him  that  when 
Dr.  Adam  Smith  was  expatiating  on  the  beauty  of  Glas- 
gow, he  had  cut  him  short  by  saying,  "  Pray,  Sir,  have 
you  ever  seen  Brentford  ?"  and  1  took  the  liberty  to 
add,  "  My  dear  Sir,  surely  that  was  shocking.^' — 
"  Why,  then.  Sir,  (he  replied,)  you  have  never  seen 
Brentford." 

Though  his  usual  phrase  for  conversation  was  talk, 
yet  he  made  a  distinction  ;  for  when  he  once  told  me 

*The  justness  of  this  remark  is  confirmed  by  the  following  story,  for  which  I  am 
indebted  to  Lord  Eliot :  A  country  Parson,  who  was  remarkable  for  quoting 
scraps  of  Latin  in  his  sermons,  having  died,  one  of  his  parishioners  was  asked  how 
lie  liked  his  successor ;  "  He  is  a  very  good  preacher,  (was  his  answer,)  but  no 
laliner" 


DR.   JOHNSON.  ^95 

that  he  dined  the  day  before  at  a  friend's  house,  with  1783. 
"  a  very  pretty  company  ;"  and   I   asked  him  if  there  JJJ! 
was  good  conversation,   he  answered,  "  No,  Sir ;  we   74. 
had   ta/k  enough,    but    no    conversation  ;    there    was 
nothing  discussed ." 

Talking  of  the  success  of  the  Scotch  in  London,  he 
imputed  it  in  a  considerable  degree  to  their  spirit  of 
nationahty.  "  You  know,  Sir,  (said  he,)  that  no 
Scotchman  pubhshes  a  book,  or  has  a  play  brought 
upon  the  stage,  but  there  are  five  hundred  people 
ready  to  applaud  him/' 

He  gave  much  praise  to  his  friend.  Dr.  Burney's 
elegant  and  entertaining  travels,  and  told  Mr.  Seward 
that  he  had  them  in  his  eye,  when  writing  his  '•  Jour- 
ney to  the  Western  Islands  of  Scotland." 

Such  was  his  sensibility,  and  so  much  was  he  affect- 
ed by  pathetick  poetry,  that,  when  he  was  reading  Dr. 
Beattie's  "  Hermit,"  in  my  presence,  it  brought  tears 
into  his  eyes.^ 

He  disapproved  much  of  mingling  real  facts  with 
fiction.  On  this  account  he  censured  a  book  entitled 
"  Love  and  Madness." 

Mr.  Hoole  told  him,  he  was  born  in  Moorfields,  and 
had  received  part  of  his  early  instruction  in  Grub- 
street.  "  Sir,  (said  Johnson,  smiling)  you  have  been 
regularlij  educated,"  Having  asked  who  was  his  in- 
structor, and  Mr.  Hoole  having  answered,  "  My  uncle. 
Sir,  who  was  a  taylor  ;"  Johnson,  recollecting  himself, 
said,  "  Sir,  I  knew  him  ;  we  called  him  the  metaphys- 
ical taiflor.  He  was  of  a  club  in  Old-street,  with  me 
and  George  Psalmanazar,  and  some  others  :  but  pray, 
Sir,  was  he  a  good  taylor  V  Mr.  Hoole  having  answer- 
ed that  he  believed  he  was  too  mathematical,  and  used 
to  draw  squares  and  triangles  on  his  shop-board,  so 
that  he  did  not  excel  in  the  cut  of  a  coat  ;" — "  I  am 
sorry  for  it  (said  Johnson,)  for  I  would  have  every  man 
to  be  master  of  his  own  business." 

In  pleasant  reference  to  himself  and  Mr.  Hoole,  as 

'  [The  particular  passage  which  excited  this  strong  emotion,  was,  as  I  have  heard' 
'>oin  my  father,  the  third  stanza,  «  'Tis  night,"  &c.     J.  B.—  O.l 


296  THE    LIFE    OF 

1783.  brother  authours,  he  often  said,  "  Let  you  and  I,  Sir, 
Mut  S^  together,  and  eat  a  beet-steak  in  Grub-street/' 
74.  *  Sir  William  Chambers,  that  great  Architect'  whose 
works  shew  a  sublimity  of  genius,  and  who  is  esteemed 
by  all  who  know  hira,  for  his  social,  hospitable,  and 
generous  qualities,  submitted  the  manuscript  of  his 
"  Chinese  Architecture,"  to  Dr.  Johnson's  perusal. 
Johnson  was  much  pleased  with  it,  and  said,  "  It  wants 
no  addition  nor  correction,  but  a  few  lines  of  introduc- 
tion ;"  which  he  furnished,  and  Sir  William  adopted.* 
He  said  to  Sir  William  Scott,  "  The  age  is  running 
mad  after  innovation  ;  and  all  the  business  of  the  world 
is  to  be  done  in  a  new  way  ;  men  are  to  be  hanged  in 
a  new  way ;  Tyburn  itself  is  not  safe  from  the  fury  of 
innovation."  It  having  been  argued  that  this  was  an 
improvement. — "No,  Sir,  (said  he,  eagerly,)  his  not  an 
improvement ;  they  object,  that  the  old  method  drew 
together  a  number  of  spectators.  Sir,  executions  are 
intended  to  draw  spectators.  If  they  do  not  draw  spec- 
tators, they  don't  answer  their  purpose.  The  old  method 
was  most  satisfactory  to  all  parties  ;  the  publick  was 
gratified  by  a  procession  ;  the  criminal  was  supported 
by  it.  Why  is  all  this  to  be  swept  away  ?"  I  perfectly 
agree  with  Dr.  Johnson  upon  this  head,  and  am  per- 
suaded that  executions  now,  the  solemn  procession  be- 
ing discontinued,  have  not  nearly  the  effect  which  they 
formerly  had.  Magistrates  both  in  London,  and  else- 
where, have,  I  am  afraid,  in  this,  had  too  much  regard 
to  their  own  ease. 

'  Tlie  Honourable  Horace  Walpole,  late  Earl  of  Oxford,  thus  bears  testimony  to 
this  gentleman's  merit  as  a  writer:  Mr. Chambers's  '  Treatise  on  Civil  Architecture,' 
is  the  most  sensible  book,  and  the  most  exempt  from  prejudices,  that  ever  was  writ- 
ten on  that   science. — Preface  to  "  Anecdotes  of  Painting  in  England." 

-  The  introductory  lines  are  these  :  "  It  is  difficult  to  avoid  praising  too  little  or 
too  much.  The  boundless  panegyricks  which  have  been  lavished  upon  the  Chinese 
learning,  policy,  and  arts,  shew  with  what  power  novelty  attracts  regard,  and  how 
naturally  esteem  swells  into  admiration. 

"  I  am  far  from  desiring  to  be  numbered  among  the  exaggerators  of  Chinese 
excellence.  1  consider  them  as  great,  or  wise,  only  in  comparison  with  the  nations 
that  surround  them ;  and  have  no  intention  to  place  them  in  competition  either 
with  the  ancients  or  with  the  moderns  of  this  part  of  the  world  ;  yet  they  must  be 
allowed  to  claim  our  notice  as  a  distinct  and  very  singular  race  of  men :  as  the 
inhabitants  of  a  region  divided  by  its  situation  from  all  civilized  countries,  who 
have  formed  their  own  manners,  and  invented  their  own  art5,  v/ithout  the  assist- 
ance of  example." 


DR.   JOHNSON.  997 

Of  Dr.  Hurd,  Bishop  of  Worcester,  Johnson  said  to  i783. 
a  friend, — "  Hurd,  Sir,  is  one  of  a  set  of  men  who  ac-  ^J^ 
"  count  for  every  thing  systematically  ;  for  instance,  it    74. ' 
"  has  been  a  fashion  to  wear  scarlet   breeches  ;  these 
"  men  would  tell  you,  that  according  to  causes  and  ef- 
"  fects,  no  other  wear  could  at  that  time  have  been 
"  chosen."     He,  however,  said  of  him  at  another  time 
to  the  same  gentleman,  "  Hurd,   Sir,  is  a  man  whose 
"  acquaintance  is  a  valuable  acquisition." 

That  learned  and  ingenious  Prelate  it  is  well  known 
published  at  one  period  of  his  life  "  Moral  and  Political 
Dialogues,"  with  a  woefully  whiggish  cast.  Afterwards, 
his  Lordship  having  thought  better,  came  to  see  hiser- 
rour,  and  republished  the  work  with  a  more  constitu- 
tional spirit.  Johnson,  however,  was  unwilling  to  al- 
low him  full  credit  for  his  political  conversion.  I  re- 
member when  his  Lordship  dechned  the  honour  of  be- 
ing Archbishop  of  Canterbury,  Johnson  said  "  I  am 
glad  he  did  not  go  to  Lambeth  ;  for,  after  all,  I  fear  he 
is  a  Whig  in  his  heart." 

Johnson's  attention  to  precision  and  clearness  in  ex- 
pression was  very  remarkable.  He  disapproved  of  a 
parenthesis  ;  and  I  believe  in  all  his  voluminous  writ- 
ings, not  half  a  dozen  of  them  will  be  found.  He  never 
used  the  phrases  the  former  and  the  latter^  having  ob- 
served, that  they  often  occasioned  obscurity  ;  he  there- 
fore contrived  to  construct  his  sentences  so  as  not  to 
have  occasion  for  them,  and  would  even  rather  repeat 
the  same  words,  in  order  to  avoid  them.  Nothing  is 
more  common  than  to  mistake  surnames,  when  we  hear 
them  carelessly  uttered  for  the  first  time.  To  prevent 
this,  he  used  not  only  to  pronounce  them  slowly  and 
distinctly,  but  to  take  the  trouble  of  spelling  them  ;  a 
practice  which  I  have  often  followed  ;  and  which  1  wish 
were  general. 

Such  was  the  heat  and  irritability  of  his  blood,  that 
not  only  did  he  pare  his  nails  to  the  quick  ;  but  scrap- 
ed the  joints  of  his  fingers  with  a  pen-knife,  till  they 
seemed  quite  red  and  raw. 

The  heterogeneous  composition  of  human  nature  was 
remarkably  exemplified  in  Johnson.     His  liberality  in 

VOL.  III.  38 


298  THE    LIFE    OP 

1783.  giving  his  money  to  persons  in  distress  was  extraordi- 
^^J^  nary.  Yet  there  lurked  about  him  a  propensity  to  pal- 
74.  try  saving.  One  day  1  owned  to  him  that  "  I  was  oc- 
casionally troubled  with  a  fit  of  narrowness"  '  Why, 
Sir,  (said  he,)  so  am  I.  But  I  do  not  tell  it*  He  has 
now  and  then  borrowed  a  shilling  of  me  ;  and  when  I 
asked  him  for  it  again,  seemed  to  be  rather  out  of  hu- 
mour. A  droll  little  circumstance  once  occurred  :  As 
if  he  meant  to  reprimand  my  minute  exactness  as  a 
creditor,  he  thus  addressed  me  ; — "  Boswell,  lend  me 
sixpence — not  to  be  repaid." 

This  great  man's  attention  to  small  things  was  very 
remarkable.  As  an  instance  of  it,  he  one  day  said  to 
me,  "  Sir,  when  you  get  silver  in  change  for  a  guinea, 
look  carefully  at  it ;  you  may  find  some  curious  piece 
of  coin." 

Though  a  stern  true-born  Englishman,  and  fully  preju- 
diced against  all  other  nations,  he  had  discernment 
enough  to  see,  and  candour  enough  to  censure,  the 
cold  reserve  too  common  among  Englishmen  towards 
strangers  :  "  Sir,  (said  he,)  two  men  of  any  other  nation 
who  are  shewn  into  a  room  together,  at  a  house  where 
they  are  both  visitors,  will  immediately  find  some  con- 
versation. But  two  Englishmen  will  probably  go  each 
to  a  different  window,  and  remain  in  obstinate  silence. 
Sir,  we  as  yet  do  not  enough  understand  the  common 
rights  of  humanity." 

Johnson  was  at  a  certain  period  of  his  life  a  good 
deal  with  the  E'arl  of  Shelburne,  now  Marquis  of  Lans- 
down,  as  he  doubtless  could  not  but  have  a  due  value 
for  that  nobleman's  activity  of  mind,  and  uncommon 
acquisitions  of  important  knowledge,  however  much 
he  might  disapprove  of  other  parts  of  his  Lordship's 
character,  which  were  widely  different  from  his  own. 

Morice  Morgann,  Esq.  authour  of  the  very  inge- 
nious "  Essay  on  the  character  of  Falstaff,"^  being  a 
particular  friend  of  his  Lordship,  had  once  an  oppor- 
tunity of  entertaining  Johnson  for  a  day  or  two  at  Wy- 

'  Johnson  being  asked  his  opinion  of  this  Essay,  answered,  "  Why,  Sir,  we  shall 
have  the  man  come  forth  again ;  and  as  he  has  proved  Falstaff  to  be  tto  coward,  he 
may  prove  lago  to  be  a  very  good  character." 


DR.    JOHNSON.  299 

Combe,  when  its  Lord  was  absent,  and  by  him  I  have  i783. 
been  favoured  with  two  anecdotes.  ^^ 

One  is  not  a  Httle  to  the  credit  of  Johnson's  can-  74. 
dour.  Mr.  Morgann  and  he  had  a  dispute  pretty  late 
at  night,  in  which  Johnson  would  not  give  up,  though 
he  had  the  wrong  side,  and  in  short,  both  kept  the 
field.  Next  morning,  when  they  met  in  the  break- 
fasting-room.  Dr.  Johnson  accosted  Mr.  Morgann  thus: 
"  Sir,  I  have  been  thinking  on  our  dispute  last  night — 
You  ZQ!ere  in  the  right" 

The  other  was  as  follows  :  Johnson,  for  sport  per- 
haps, or  from  the  spirit  of  contradiction,  eagerly 
maintained  that  Derrick  had  merit  as  a  writer.  Mr. 
Morgann  argued  with  him  directly,  in  vain.  At 
length  he  had  recourse  to  this  device.  "  Pray,  Sir, 
(said  he,)  whether  do  you  reckon  Derrick  or  Smart  the 
best  poet  ?"  Johnson  at  once  felt  himself  roused  ; 
and  answered,  "  Sir,  there  is  no  settling  the  point  of 
precedency  between  a  louse  and  a  flea." 

Once,  when  checking  my  boasting  too  frequently 
of  myself  in  company,  he  said  to  me,  "  Boswell,  you 
often  vaunt  so  much  as  to  provoke  ridicule.  You  put 
nie  in  mind  of  a  man  who  was  standing  in  the  kitchen 
of  an  inn  with  his  back  to  the  fire,  and  thus  accosted 
the  person  next  him,  '  Do  you  know.  Sir,  who  I  am  V 
^  No,  Sir,  (said  the  other,)  1  have  not  that  advantage.* 
'  Sir,  (said  he,)  I  am  the  gi^eat  Twalmley,  who  in- 
vented the  New  Floodgate  Iron."*  The  Bishop  of 
Killaloe,  on  my  repeating  the  story  to  him,  defended 
Twalmley,  by  observing  that  he  was  entitled  to  the 
epithet  oi  great ;  for  Virgil  in  his  group  of  worthies  in 
the  Elysian  fields — 

Hie  manus  oh  pair  cam  pugnando  vulnera  passi ;  &c. 

mentions 

Inventas  aut  qui  vitam  excoluere  per  artes. 

He  was  pleased  to  say  to  me  one  morning  when  we 
were  left  alone  in  his  study,  "  Boswell,  I  think,  I  am 
easier  with  you  than  with  almost  any  body." 

■•What  the  great  Twalmley  was  so  proud  of  having  invented,  was  neither 
more  or  less  than  a  kind  of  box-iron  for  smoothing  linen. 


300  THE    LIFE    OP 

1783.      He  would  not  allow   Mr.   David  Hume  any  credit 
25';^  f'^r  his  political  principles,  though  similar  to  his  own  ; 
74     Sci^-ing  of  him,  "  Sir,  he  was  a  Tory,  by  chance." 

His  acute  observation  of  human  life  made  him  re- 
mark, *'  Sir,  there  is  nothing  by  which  a  man  exasper- 
ates most  people  more,  than  by  displaying  a  superiour 
ability  of  brilliancy  in  conversation.  They  seem 
pleased  at  the  time  ;  but  their  envy  makes  them  curse 
him  at  their  hearts." 

My  readers  will  probably  be  surprised  to  hear  that 
the  oreat   Dr.  Johnson  could  amuse  himself  with  so 

o 

slight  and  playful  a  species  of  composition  as  a  Chu' 
rade.  1  have  recovered  one  which  he  made  on  Dr. 
Barnard^  now  Lord  Bishop  of  Killaloe  ;^  who  has 
been  pleased  for  many  years  to  treat  me  with  so  much 
intimacy  and  social  ease,  that  1  may  presume  to  call 
him  not  only  my  Right  Reverend,  but  my  very  dear 
Friend.  1  therefore  with  peculiar  pleasure  give  to  the 
world  a  just  and  elegant  compliment  thus  paid  to  his 
Lordship  by  Johnson. 

Charade. 
"  My  firsf^  shuts  out  thieves  from  your  house  or  your 

room, 
"  My  second''  expresses  a  Syrian  perfume. 
"  My  zvhole^  is  a  man  in  whose  converse  is  sharM, 
"  The  strength  of  a  Bar  and  the  sweetness  of  Nard." 

Johnson  asked  Richard  Owen  Cambridge,  Esq.  if 
he  had  read  the  Spanish  translation  of  Sallust,  said  to 
be  written  by  a  Prince  of  Spain,  with  the  assistance  of 
his  tutor,  who  is  professedly  the  authour  of  a  treatise 
annexed,  on  the  Phoenician  language. 

Mr.  Cambridge  commended  the  work,  particularly 
as  he  thought  the  Translator  understood  his  authour 
better  than  is  commonly  the  case  with  Translators  ; 
but  said,  he  was  disappointed  in  the  purpose  for  which 
he  borrowed  the  book  ;  to  see  whether  a  Spaniard 
could  be  better  furnished  with  inscriptions  from  mon- 

■•  [Afterwards  translated  to  the  see  of  Limerick.     M.] 

'  Bar.  ?  Nard.  f  Barnard. 


DR.   JOHNSON.  301 

uments,  coins,  or   other   antiquities,  which  he  might  i783. 
more  probably  find  on  a  coast,  so  immediately  oppo-  ^^ 
site  to  Carthage,  than  the  Antiquaries  of  other  coun-   74.  ' 
tries.     Johnson.  "  I  am  very  sorry  you  were  not  grat- 
ified in   your  expectations."       Cambridge.    "  The 
language  would  have  been  of  little  use,  as  there  is  no 
history  existing  in   that  tongue  to  balance  the  partial 
accounts   which    the   Roman    writers    have    left  us." 
Johnson.  "  No,  Sir.     They   have   not   been  partial^ 
they  have  told  their  own  story,  without  shame  or  re- 
gard to  equitable  treatment  of  their  injured  enemy  ; 
they  had  no  compunction,  no  feeling  for  a  Carthagin- 
ian.    Why,  Sir,  they  would  never  have  borne  VirgiPs 
description  of  vEneas's  treatment  of  Dido,  if  she  had 
not  been  a  Carthaginian." 

I  gratefully  acknowledge  this  and  other  communi- 
cations from  Mr.  Cambridge,  whom,  if  a  beautiful  villa 
on  the  banks  of  the  Thames,  a  few  miles  distant  from 
London,  a  numerous  and  excellent  library,  which  he 
accurately  knows  and  reads,  a  choice  collection  of  pic- 
tures, which  he  understands  and  relishes,  an  easy 
fortune,  an  amiable  family,  an  extensive  circle  of  friends 
and  acquaintance,  distinguished  by  rank,  fashion  and 
genius,  a  literary  fame,  various  elegant  and  still  increas- 
ing, colloquial  talents  rarely  to  be  found,  and  with  all 
these  means  of  happiness,  enjoying,  when  well  advanc- 
ed in  years,  health  and  vigour  of  body,  serenity  and 
animation  of  mind,  do  not  entitle  to  be  addressedybr- 
tunate  senex  !  I  know  not  to  whom,  in  any  age,  that 
expression  could  with  propriety  have  been  used.  Long 
may  he  live  to  hear  and  to  feel  it  !' 

Johnson's  love  of  little  children,  which  he  discovered 
upon  all  occasions,  calling  them,  "  pretty  dears,"  and 
giving  them  sweetmeats,  was  an  undoubted  proof  of 
the  real  humanity  and  gentleness  of  his  disposition. 

His  uncommon  kindness  to  his  servants,  and  serious 
concern,  not  only  for  their  comfort  in  this  world,  but 
their  happiness  in  the  next,  was  another  unquestion- 

'  [Mr.  Cambridge  enjoyed  all  the  blessings  here  enumerated  for  many  years  af- 
ter this  passage  was  written.  He  died  at  his  seat  near  Twickenhamj  Sept.  17,1 802, 
in  his  eighty-sixth  year.    M.] 


302  THE    LIFE    OF 

1783.  able  evidence  of  what  all,  who  were  intimately  ac^ 
^J^  quainted  with  him,  knew  to  be  true. 
74,  Nor  would  it  be  just  under  this  head,  to  omit  the 
fondness  which  he  shewed  for  animals  which  he  had 
taken  under  his  protection.  I  never  shall  forget  the 
indulgence  with  which  he  treated  Hodge,  his  cat  :  for 
whom  he  himself  used  to  go  out  and  buy  oysters,  lest 
the  servants  having  that  trouble  should  take  a  dislike 
to  the  poor  creature.  1  am,  unluckily  one  of  those 
who  have  an  antipathy  to  a  cat,  so  that  I  am  uneasy 
when  in  the  room  with  one  ;  and  I  own,  I  frequently 
suffered  a  good  deal  from  the  presence  of  this  same 
Hodge.  I  recollect  him  one  day  scrambling  up  Dr. 
Johnson's  breast,  apparently  with  much  satisfaction, 
while  my  friend  smiling  and  half-whistling,  rubbed 
down  his  back,  and  pulled  him  by  the  tail  ;  and  when 
I  observed  he  was  a  fine  cat,  saying  "  why,  yes.  Sir, 
but  I  have  had  cats  whom  1  liked  better  than  this  ;" 
and  then  as  if  perceiving  Hodge  to  be  out  of  counte- 
nance, adding,  "  but  he  is  a  very  fine  cat,  a  very  fine 
cat  indeed." 

This  reminds  me  of  the  ludicrous  account  which 
he  gave  Mr.  Langton,  of  the  despicable  state  of  a 
young  gentleman  of  good  family.  "  Sir,  when  I  heard 
of  him  last,  he  was  running  about  town  shooting  cats." 
And  then  in  a  sort  of  kindly  reverie,  he  bethought 
himself  of  his  own  favourite  cat,  and  said,  "  But 
Hodge  shan't  be  shot :  no,  no,  Hodge  shall  not  be  shot." 

He  thought  Mr.  Beauclerk  made  a  shrewd  and  judi- 
cious remark  to  Mr.  Langton,  who,  after  having  been 
for  the  first  time  in  company  with  a  well  known  wit 
about  town,  was  warmly  admiring  and  praising  him, 
"See  him  again,"  said  Beauclerk. 

His  respect  for  the  Hierarchy,  and  particularly  the 
Dignitaries  of  the  Church,  has  been  more  than  once 
exhibited  in  the  course  of  this  work.  Mr.  Seward 
saw  him  presented  to  the  Archbishop  of  York,  and 
described  his  Bow  to  an  Arch-Bishop,  as  such  a  stud- 
ied elaboration  of  homage,  such  an  extension  of  limb, 
such  a  flexion  of  body,  as  have  seldom  or  ever  been 
equalled. 


DR.   JOHNSON.  303 

I  cannot  help  mentioning  with  much  regret,  that  by  nss. 
my  own  negligence  1  lost  an  opportunity  of  having  the  ^^^ 
history  of  my  family  from  its  founder  Thomas  Boswell,  74. 
in  1504,  recorded  and  illustrated  by  Johnson's  pen. 
Such  was  his  goodriess  to  me,  that  when  1  presumed 
to  solicit  him  for  so  great  a  favour,  he  was  pleased  to 
say,  "  Let  me  have  all  the  materials  you  can  collect, 
and  I  will  do  it  both  in  Latin  and  English  ;  then  let  it 
be  printed,  and  copies  of  it  be  deposited  in  various 
places  for  security  and  preservation/'  1  can  now  only 
do  the  best  1  can  to  make  up  for  this  loss,  keeping  my 
great  Master  steadily  in  view.  Family  histories,  Hke 
the  imagines  majorum  of  the  ancients,  excite  to  virrue; 
and  1  wish  that  they  who  really  have  blood,  would  be 
more  careful  to  trace  and  ascertain  its  course.  Some 
have  affected  to  laugh  at  the  history  of  the  house  of 
Yvery:'  it  would  be  well  if  many  others  would  trans- 
mit their  pedigrees  to  posterity,  with  the  same  accura- 
cy and  generous  zeal,  with  which  the  Noble  Lord  who 
compiled  that  work  has  honoured  and  perpetuated  his 
ancestry. 

On  Thursday,  April  10,  I  introduced  to  him,  at  his 
house  in  Bolt-court,  the  Honourable  and  Reverend 
William  Stuart,^  son  of  the  Earl  of  Bute  ;  a  gentleman 
truly  worthy  of  being  known  to  Johnson  ;  being,  with 
all  the  advantages  of  high  birth,  learning,  travel,  and 
elegant  manners,  an  exemplary  parish  priest  in  every 
respect. 

After  some  compliments  on  both  sides,  the  tour 
which  Johnson  and  1  had  made  to  the  Hebrides  was 
mentioned. — Johnson.  "  1  got  an  acquisition  of  more 
ideas  by  it  than  by  any  thing  that  1  remember.  1  savir 
quite  a  different  system  of  life."  Boswell.  "\ou 
would  not  like  to  make  the  same  journey  again  \" 
Johnson.  "  Why  no,  Sir;  not  the  same  :  it  is  a  tale 
told.  Gravina,  an  Italian  critick,  observes,  that  every 
man  desires  to  see  that  of  which  he  has  read  ;  but  no 

'  [Written  by  John,  Earl  of  Egmont.     M.] 

2  [At  that  time  Vicar  of  Luton  in  Bedfordshire,  where  he  lived  for  some  years, 
and  fully  merited  the  character  given  of  him  in  the  text ;  now  [1806]  Lord  Arch- 
bishop of  Armagh,  and  Primate  of  Ireland.     M.] 


30 1<  THE    LIFE    OF 

1783.  man  desires  to  read  an  account  of  what  he  has  seen : 
2J^.  so  much  does  description  fall  short  of  reality.  Descrip- 
7  4.  tion  only  excites  curiosity:  seeing  satisfies  it.  Other 
people  may  go  and  see  the  Hebrides."  Boswell. 
"  I  should  wish  to  go  and  see  some  country  totally 
different  from  what  I  have  been  used  to  ;  such  as  Tur- 
key, where  religion  and  every  thing  else  are  different." 
Johnson.  "  Yes,  Sir  ;  there  are  two  objects  of  curios- 
ity,— the  Christian  world,  and  the  Mahometan  world. 
All  the  rest  may  be  considered  as  barbarous."  Bos- 
well. "Pray,  Sir,  is  the  'Turkish  Spy'  a  genuine 
book?"  Johnson.  "  No,  Sir.  Mrs.  Manley,  in  her 
Life,  says,  that  her  father  wrote  the  first  two  volumes : 
and  in  another  book,  '  Dunton's  Life  and  Errours,'  we 
find  that  the  rest  was  written  by  one  Sault^  at  two 
guineas  a  sheet*  under  the  direction  of  Dr.  Midgeley."^ 
Boswell.  "  This  has  been  a  very  factious  reign, 
owing  to  the  too  great  indulgence  of  Government." 
Johnson.  "  /think  so,  Sir.  What  at  first  was  lenity, 
grew  timidity.  Yet  this  is  reasoning  d  posteriori^  and 
may  not  be  just.  Supposing  a  few  had  at  first  been 
punished,  I  believe  faction  would  have  been  crushed  ; 
but  it  might  have  been  said,  that  it  was  a  sanguinary 
reign.  A  man  cannot  tell  d  pt^iori  what  will  be  best 
for  government  to  do.  This  reign  has  been  very  unfor- 
tunate. We  have  had  an  unsuccessful  war  ;  but  that 
does  not  prove  that  we  have  been  ill  governed.  One 
side  or  other  must  prevail  in  war,  as  one  or  other  must 
win  at  play.  When  we  beat  Louis,  we  were  not  better 
governed  ;  nor  were  the  French  better  governed,  when 
Louis  beat  us." 

On  Saturday,  April  12,  I  visited  him,  in  company 
with  Mr.  Windham,  of  Norfolk,  whom,  though  a  Whig, 
he  highly  valued.  One  of  the  best  things  he  ever  said 
was  to  this  gentleman  ;  who  before  he  set  out  for  Ire- 

3  ["  The  Turkish  Spy,"  was  pretended  to  have  been  written  originally  in  Arabiclc ; 
from  Arabick  translated  into  Italian,  and  thence  into  English.  The  real  authour  of 
the  work,  which  was  in  fact  originally  written  in  Italian,  was  I.  P.  Marana,  a  Gen- 
oese, who  died  at  Paris  in  1693. 

John  Dunton  in  his  Ufe  says,  that  "Mr.  IVilUam  Bradshaiu  received  from  Dr 
Midgeley  forty  shillings  a  sheet  for  writing  part  of  the  "  Turkish  Spy ;"  but  I  do 
not  find  that  he  any  where  mentions  Sault  as  engaged  in  that  work.     M.l 


DR.   JOHNSON.  30^ 

land  as  Secretary  to  Lord  Northington,  when  Lord  1783. 
Lieutenant,  expressed  to  the  Sage  some  modest  and  j^^^ 
virtuous  doubts,  whether  he  could   bring   himself  to   74. 
practise  those  arts  which  it    is  supposed  a  person  in 
that  situation   has  occasion   to  employ.      "  Don't  be 
afraid,  Sir,  (said  Johnson,   with  a  pleasant  smile,)  you 
will  soon  make  a  very  pretty  rascal." 

He  talked  to-day  a  good  deal  of  the  wonderful 
extent  and  variety  of  London,  and  observed,  that  men 
of  curious  enquiry  might  see  in  it  such  modes  of  life 
as  very  few  could  even  imagine.  He  in  particular  rec- 
ommended to  us  to  explore  fVapping,  which  we  resolv- 
ed to  do.* 

Mr.  Lowe,  the  painter,  who  was  with  him,  was  very 
much  distressed  that  a  large  picture  which  he  had 
painted  was  refused  to  be  received  into  the  Exhibition 
of  the  Royal  Academy.  Mrs.  Thrale  knew  Johnson's 
character  so  superficially,  as  to  represent  him  as  unwil- 
ling to  do  small  acts  of  benevolence  ;  and  mentions,  in 
particular,  that  he  would  hardly  take  the  trouble  to 
write  a  letter  in  favour  of  his  friends.  The  truth,  how- 
ever, is,  that  he  was  remarkable,  in  an  extraordinary 
degree,  for  what  she  denies  to  him  ;  and,  above  all,  for 
this  very  sort  of  kindness,  writing  letters  for  those  to 
whom  his  solicitations  might  be  of  service.  He  now 
gave  Mr.  Lowe  the  following,  of  which  1  was  diligent 
enough,  with  his  permission,  to  take  copies  at  the  next 
coffee-house,  while  Mr.  Windham  was  so  good  as  to 
stay  by  me. 

"  TO  SIR  JOSHUA  REYNOLDS. 
"  SIR, 

"  Mr.  Lowe  considers  himself  as  cut  off  from  aU 
credit  and  all  hope,  by  the  rejection  of  his  picture  from 
the  Exhibition.  Upon  this  work  he  has  exhausted  all 
his  powers,  and  suspended  all  his  expectations  :  and, 

"  We  accordingly  carried  our  scheme  into  execution,  in  October,  1 792  ;  but 
whether  from  that  uniformity  which  has  in  modern  times,  in  a  great  degree,  spread 
through  every  part  of  the  metropolis,  or  from  our  want  of  sufficient  exertion,  vfp 
were  disappointed. 

VOL.   TIT,  89 


306  THE    LIFE    OF 

1783.  certainly,  to  be  refused  an  opportunity  of  taking  the 
>Etat^  ^P'"'^"  of  the   puhlick,  is  in  itself  a  very  great  hard- 
74.    ship.     It  is  to  be  condemned  without  a  trial. 

"  If  you  could  procure  the  revocation  of  this  inca- 
pacitating edict,  you  would  dehver  an  unhappy  man 
from  great  affliction.  The  Council  has  sometimes  re- 
versed its  own  determination  ;  and  1  hope,  that  by  your 
interposition  this  luckless  picture  may  be  got  admitted. 
1  am,  &c. 
"  April  12,  1783.  "  Sam.  Johnson." 

"  TO  MR.  BARRY. 
"  SIR, 

"  Mr.  Lowers  exclusion  from  the  exhibition  gives 
him  more  trouble  than  you  and  the  other  gentlemen 
of  the  Council  could  imagine  or  intend.  He  considers 
disgrace  and  ruin  as  the  inevitable  consequence  of 
your  determination. 

"  He  says,  that  some  pictures  have  been  received 
after  rejection  ;  and  if  there  be  any  such  precedent,  1 
earnestly  intreat  that  you  will  use  your  interest  in  his 
favour.  Of  his  work  1  can  say  nothing  ;  1  pretend  not 
to  judge  of  painting  ;  and  this  picture  1  never  saw  : 
but  1  conceive  it  extremely  hard  to  shut  out  any  man 
from  the  possibility  of  success  ;  and  therefore  i  repeat 
my  request  that  you  will  propose  the  re-consideration 
of  Mr.  Lowe's  case  ;  and  if  there  be  any  among  the 
Council  with  whom  my  name  can  have  any  weight,  be 
pleased  to  communicate  to  them  the  desire  of,  Sir, 
"  Your  most  humble  servant, 
"  April  12,  1783.  "  Sam.  Johnson.' 


)i 


Such  intercession  was  too  powerful  to  be  resisted  ; 
and  Mr.  Lowe's  performance  was  admitted  at  Somerset 
Place.  The  subject,  as  I  recollect,  was  the  Deluge,  at 
that  point  of  time  when  the  water  was  verging  to  the 
top  of  the  last  uncovered  mountain.  Near  to  the  spot 
was  seen  the  last  of  the  antediluvian  race,  exclusive  of 
those  who  were  saved  in  the  ark  of  Noah.  This  was 
one  of  those  giants,  then  the  inhabitants  of  the  earth, 


DR.    JOHNSON.  307 

who  bad  still  strength  to  swim,  and  with   one  of  his  '783. 
hands  held  aloft  his  infant   child.     Upon  the  small  re-  ^^ 
maining   dry  spot  appeared   a  famished  lion,   ready  to    74. 
spring  at  the  child  and   devour  it.     Mr.  Lowe  told  me 
that  Johnson   said  to  him,  "  Sir,  your  picture  is  noble 
and   probable." — "  A  compliment,    indeed,  (said   Mr. 
Lowe,)  from  a  man  who  cannot  lie,  and  cannot  be  mis- 
taken." 

About  this  time  he  wrote  to  Mrs.  Lucy  Porter,  men- 
tioning his  bad  health,  and  that  he  intended  a  visit  to 
Lichfield.  "  It  is,  (says  he,)  with  no  great  expectation 
of  amendment  that  I  make  every  year  a  journey  into 
the  country  ;  but  it  is  pleasant  to  visit  those  whose 
kindness  has  been  often  experienced." 

On  April  18,  (being  Good-Friday)  I  found  him  at 
-  breakfast,  in  his  usual  manner  upon  that  day,  drinking 
tea  without  milk,  and  eating  a  cross  bun  to  prevent 
faintness  ;  we  went  to  St.  Clement's  church,  as  for- 
merly. When  we  came  home  from  church,  he  placed 
himself  on  one  of  the  stone-seats  at  his  garden  door, 
and  I  took  the  other,  and  thus  in  the  open  air  and  in  a 
placid  frame  of  mind,  he  talked  away  very  easily.  John- 
son. "  Were  I  a  country  gentleman,  I  should  not  be 
ve?y  hospitable,  I  should  not  have  crowds  in  my  house." 
BoswELL.  "  Sir  Alexander  Dick  tells  me,  that  he  re- 
members having  a  thousand  people  in  a  year  to  dine  at 
his  house ;  that  is,  reckoning  each  person  as  one,  each 
time  that  he  dined  there."  Johnson.  "  That,  Sir,  is 
about  three  a  day."  Boswell.  "  How  your  statement 
lessens  the  idea."  Johnson.  "  That,  Sir,  is  the  good 
of  counting.  It  brings  every  thing  to  a  certainty,  which 
before  floated  in  the  mind  indefinitely."  Boswell. 
"  But  Omne  ignotum  pro  magmjico  est  :  one  is  sorry  to 
have  this  diminished."  Johnson.  "  Sir,  you  should 
not  allow  yourself  to  be  delighted  with  errour."  Bos- 
well. "Three  a  day  seem  but  few."  Johnson.  "  Nay, 
Sir,  he  who  entertains  three  a  day,  does  very  liberally. 
And  if  there  is  a  large  family,  the  poor  entertain  those 
three,  for  they  eat  what  the  poor  would  get :  there  must 
be  superfluous  meat ;  it  must  be  given  to  the  poor,  or 
thrown  out."     Boswell.  "  1  observe  in  London,  that 


30S  THE    LIFE    OF 

1783.  the  j30or  go  about  and  gather  bones,  which  I  understand 
j£f^  are  manufactured.  Johnson.  "Yes,  Sir;  they  boil 
74.  them,  and  extract  a  grease  from  them  forgreasing  wheels 
and  other  purposes.  Of  the  best  pieces  they  make  a 
mock  ivory,  which  is  used  for  hafts  to  knives,  and  vari- 
ous other  things  ;  the  coarser  pieces  they  burn  and 
pound,  and  selJ  the  ashes."  Bos  well.  "  For,  what 
purpose,  Sir?"  Johnson.  "  Why,  Sir,  for  making  a  fur- 
nace for  the  chemists  for  melting  iron.  A  paste  made 
of  burnt  bones  will  stand  a  strf>nger  heat  than  any  thing 
else.  Consider,  Sir ;  if  you  are  to  melt  iron,  you  can- 
not line  your  pot  with  brass,  because  it  is  softer  than 
iron,  and  would  melt  sooner ;  nor  with  iron,  for  though 
malleable  iron  is  harder  than  cast  iron,  yet  it  would  not 
do  ;  but  a  paste  of  burnt-bones  will  not  melt.  Boswell. 
^'  Do  you  know,  Sir,  1  have  discovered  a  manufacture  to 
a  great  extent,  of  what  you  only  piddle  at, — scraping 
and  drying  the  peel  of  oranges.^  At  a  place  in  New- 
gate-street, there  is  a  prodigious  quantity  prepared, 
which  they  sell  to  the  distillers."  Johnson.  "  Sir,  1  be- 
lieve they  make  a  higher  thing  out  of  them  than  a  spirit ; 
they  make  what  is  called  orange-butter,  the  oil  of  the 
orange  inspissated,  which  they  mix  perhaps  with  com- 
mon pomatum,  and  make  it  flagrant.  The  oil  doesribt 
flv  off  in  the  drvinff." 

Boswell.  "  I  wish  to  have  a  good  walled  garden." 
Johnson.  "  1  don't  think  it  would  be  worth  the  ex- 
pence  to  you.  We  compute  in  England,  a  park-wall  at 
a  thousand  pounds  a  mile  ;  now  a  garden-wall  must 
cost  at  least  as  much.  You  intend  your  trees  should 
grow  higher  than  a  dear  will  leap.  Now  let  us  see ; — 
for  a  hundred  pounds  you  could  only  have  forty-four 
square  yards,  which  is  very  little  ;  for  two  hundred 
pounds,  you  may  have  eighty-four  square  yards,  which 
is  very  well.  But  when  will  you  get  the  value  of  two 
hundred  pounds  of  walls,  in  fruit,  in  your  climate?  No, 
Sir,  such  contention  with  Nature  is  not  worth  while. 

''  It  is  suggested  to  me  by  an  anonymous  Annotalor  on  my  work,  that  the  rea- 
son why  Dr.  Johnson  collected  the  peels  of  squeezed  oranges,  may  be  found,  in  the 
3.58th  Letter  in  Mrs.  Piozzi's  Collection,  where  it  appears  that  he  recommended 
'•  driqid  orange-peel,  finely  powdered,"  as  a  medicine . 


DR.   JOHNSON.  309 

I  would  plant  an  orchard,  and  have  plenty  of  such  fruit  '783. 
as  ripen  well  in  your  country.  My  friend.  Dr.  Madden,  ^^^ 
of  Ireland,  said,  that,  '  in  an  orchard  there  should  be  74.  * 
enough  to  eat,  enough  to  lay  up,  enough  to  be  stolen, 
and  enough  to  rot  upon  the  ground.'  Cherries  are  an 
early  fruit,  you  may  have  them  ;  and  you  may  have  the 
early  apples  and  pears.''  Bos  well.  "  We  cannot  have 
nonpareils." — Johnson.  "Sir,  you  can  no  more  have 
nonpareils  than  you  can  have  grapes."  Boswell.  "  We 
have  them,  Sir  ;  but  they  are  very  bad."  Johnson. 
"  Nay,  Sir,  never  try  to  have  a  thing  merely  to  shew 
that  you  cannot  have  it.  From  ground  that  would  let 
for  forty  shillings  you  may  have  a  large  orchard  ;  and 
you  see  it  costs  you  only  forty  shillings.  Nay,  you 
may  graze  the  ground  when  the  trees  are  grown  up  ; 
you  cannot,  while  they  are  young."  Bosavell.  "Is 
not  a  good  garden  a  very  common  thing  in  England, 
Sir!"  Johnson.  "Not  so  common.  Sir,  as  you  imagine. 
In  Lincolnshire  there  is  hardly  an  orchard;  in  Stafford- 
shire very  little  fruit."  Boswell.  "  Has  Langton  no 
orchard?"  Johnson.  "  No,  Sir."  Boswell.  "  Hov/ 
so.  Sir?"  Johnson.  "Why,  Sir,  from  the  general  neg- 
ligence of  the  county.  He  has  it  not,  because  nobody 
else  has  it."  Boswell.  "  A  hot-house  is  a  certain 
thing;  I  may  have  that."  Johnson.  "A  hot-house  is 
pretty  certain  ;  but  you  must  first  build  it,  then  you 
must  keep  fires  in  it,  and  you  must  have  a  gardener  to 
take  care  of  it."  Boswell.  "  But  if  I  have  a  gardener 
at  any  rate?" — Johnson.  "Why,  yes."  Boswell. 
"  I'd  have  it  near  my  house  ;  there  is  no  need  to  have 
it  in  the  orchard."  Johnson.  "  Yes,  I'd  have  it  near 
my  house. — 1  would  plant  a  great  many  currants  ;  the 
fruit  is  good,  and  they  make  a  pretty  sweetmeat." 

I  record  this  minute  detail,  which  some  may  think 
trifling,  in  order  to  shew  clearly  how  this  great  man, 
whose  mind  could  grasp  such  large  and  extensive  sub- 
jects, as  he  has  shewn  in  his  literary  labours,  was  yet 
well-informed  in  the  common  affairs  of  life,  and  loved 
to  illustrate  them. 

Mr.  Walker,  the  celebrated  master  of  elocution, 
came  in,  and  then  we  went  up  stairs  into  the  study.     I 


310  THE    LIFE    OP 

1783.  asked  him  if  he  had  taught  many  clergymen.    Johnson. 

^^'j^  "  I  hope  not."  V¥alker.  "  1  have  taught  only  one, 
74.  and  he  is  the  best  reader  I  ever  heard,  not  by  my 
teaching,  but  by  his  own  natural  talents."  Johnson. 
"  Were  he  the  best  reader  in  the  world,  I  would  not 
have  it  told  that  he  was  taught."  Here  was  one  of  his 
peculiar  prejudices.  Could  it  be  any  disadvantage  to 
the  clergyman  to  have  it  known  that  he  was  taught  an 
easy  and  graceful  delivery  ?  Boswell.  "  Will  you 
not  allow,  Sir,  that  a  man  may  be  taught  to  read  well  ?" 
Johnson.  "  Why,  Sir,  so  far  as  to  read  better  than  he 
might  do  without  being  taught,  yes.  Formerly  it  was 
supposed  that  there  was  no  difference  in  reading,  but 
that  one  read  as  well  as  another."  Boswell.  "  it  is 
wonderful  to  see  old  Sheridan  as  enthusiastick  about 
oratory  as  ever."  Walker.  "  His  enthusiasm  as  to 
what  oratory  will  do,  may  be  too  great  :  but  he  reads 
well."  Johnson.  "  He  reads  well,  but  he  reads  low  ; 
and  you  know  it  is  much  easier  to  read  low  than  to 
read  high  ;  for  when  you  read  high,  you  are  much 
more  limited,  your  loudest  note  can  be  but  one,  and  so 
the  variety  is  less  in  proportion  to  the  loudness.  Now 
some  people  have  occasion  to  speak  to  an  extensive 
audience,  and  must  speak  loud  to  be  heard."  Walker. 
"  The  art  is  to  read  strong,  though  low." 

Talking  of  the  origin  of  language  ; — Johnson.  "  It 
must  have  come  by  inspiration.  A  thousand,  nay,  a 
million  of  children  could  not  invent  a  language.  While 
the  organs  are  pliable,  there  is  not  understanding 
enough  to  form  a  language  ;  by  the  time  that  there  is 
understanding  enough,  the  organs  are  become  stiff. 
We  know  that  after  a  certain  age  we  cannot  learn  to 
pronounce  a  new  language.  No  foreigner,  who  comes 
to  England  when  advanced  in  life,  ever  pronounces 
English  tolerably  well  ;  at  least  such  instances  are  very 
rare.  When  I  maintain  that  language  must  have  come 
by  inspiration,  I  do  not  mean  that  inspiration  is  requir- 
ed for  rhetorick,  and  all  the  beauties  of  language  ;  for 
when  once  man  has  language,  we  can  conceive  that 
he  may  gradually  form  modifications  of  it.  1  mean 
only  that  inspiration  seems  to  me  to  be  necessary  to 


DR.   JOHNSON.  311 

give  man  the  faculty  of  speech  ;  to  inform  him  that  he  i783. 
may   have  speech  ;  which  I  think   he  could   no  more  ^^ 
find  out  without  inspiration,  than  cows  or  hogs  would   74.  ' 
think  of  such  a  faculty."     Walker.  "  Do  you  think, 
Sir,  that   there   are  any  perfect  synonimes  in  any  lan- 
guage ?"     Johnson.  "  Originally  there  were  not  ;  but 
by   using  words  negligently,  or  in    poetry,  one  word 
comes  to  be  confounded  with  another." 

He  talked  of  Dr.  Dodd.  "  A  friend  of  mine,  (said 
he,)  came  to  me  and  told  me,  that  a  lady  wished  to 
have  Dr.  Dodd's  picture  in  a  bracelet,  and  asked  me 
for  a  motto.  1  said,  1  could  think  of  no  better  than 
Currat  Lex.  1  was  very  willing  to  have  him  pardon- 
ed, that  is,  to  have  the  sentence  changed  to  transporta- 
tion :  but,  when  he  was  once  hanged,  1  did  not  wish 
he  should  be  made  a  saint." 

Mrs.  Burney,  wife  of  his  friend  Dr.  Burney,  came  in, 
and  he  seemed  to  be  entertained  with  her  conversation. 

Garrick's  funeral  was  talked  of  as  extravagantly  ex- 
pensive. Johnson,  from  his  dislike  to  exaggeration, 
would  not  allow  that  it  was  distinguished  by  any  ex- 
traordinary pomp.  "  Were  there  not  six  horses  to  each 
coach  ?"  said  Mrs.  Burney.  Johnson.  "  Madam, 
there  were  no  more  six  horses  than  six  phoenixes." 

Mrs.  Burney  wondered  that  some  very  beautiful  new 
buildings  should  be  erected  in  Moorfields,  in  so  shock- 
ing a  situation  as  between  Bedlam  and  St.  Luke's  Hos- 
pital ;  and  said  she  could  not  live  there.  Johnson. 
"  Nay,  Madam,  you  see  nothing  there  to  hurt  you. 
You  no  more  think  of  madness  by  having  windows 
that  look  to  Bedlam,  than  you  think  of  death  by  having 
windows  that  look  to  a  church-yard."  Mrs.  Burney. 
"  We  may  look  to  a  church-yard.  Sir  ;  for  it  is  right 
that  we  should  be  kept  in  mind  of  death."  Johnson. 
"  Nay,  Madam,  if  you  go  to  that,  it  is  right  that  we 
should  be  kept  in  mind  of  madness,  which  is  occasioned 
by  too  much  indulgence  of  imagination.  I  think  a 
very  moral  use  may  be  made  of  these  new  buildings : 
I  would  have  those  who  have  heated  imaginations  live 
there,  and  take  warning."  Mrs.  Burney.  "  But, 
Sir,  many  of  the  poor  people  that  are  mad,  have  become 


312  THE    LIFE    OF 

1783.  SO  from  disease,  or  from  distressing  events.  It  is, 
^77  therefore,  not  their  fault,  but  their  misfortune  ;  and, 
74.  '  therefore,  to  think  of  them,  is  a  melancholy  consider- 
ation." 

Time  passed  on  in  conversation  till  it  was  too  late 
for  the  service  of  the  church  at  three  o'clock.  1  took 
a  walk,  and  left  him  alone  for  some  time  ;  then  re- 
turned, and  we  had  coffee  and  conversation  again  by 
ourselves. 

I  stated  the  character  of  a  noble  friend  of  mine,  as  a 
curious  case  for  his  opinion  : — "  He  is  the  most  inex- 
plicable man  to  me  that  I  ever  knew.  Can  you  explain 
him,  Sir  !  He  is,  I  really  believe,  noble-minded,  gen- 
erous, and  princely.  But  his  most  intimate  friends 
may  be  separated  from  him  for  years,  without  his  ever 
asking  a  question  concerning  them.  He  will  meet 
them  with  a  formality,  a  coldness,  a  stately  indiffer- 
ence ;  but  when  they  come  close  to  him,  and  fairly 
engage  him  in  conversation,  they  find  him  as  easy, 
pleasant,  and  kind,  as  they  could  wish.  One  then 
supposes  that  what  is  so  agreeable  will  soon  be  renew- 
ed ;  but  stay  away  from  him  for  half  a  year,  and  he 
will  neither  call  on  you,  nor  send  to  enquire  about 
you."  Johnson.  "  Why,  Sir,  I  cannot  ascertain  his 
character  exactly,  as  I  do  not  know  him  ;  but  I  should 
not  like  to  have  such  a  man  for  my  friend.  He  may 
love  study,  and  wish  not  to  be  interrupted  by  his 
friends  ;  Amici  fares  temporis.  He  may  be  a  frivolous 
man,  and  be  so  much  occupied  with  petty  pursuits, 
that  he  may  not  want  friends.  Or  he  may  have  a 
notion  that  there  is  a  dignity  in  appearing  indifferent, 
while  he  in  fact  may  not  be  more  indifferent  at  his 
heart  than  another." 

We  went  to  evening  prayers  at  St.  Clement's,  at 
seven,  and  then  parted. 

On  Sunday,  April  20,  being  Easter-day,  after  attend- 
ing solemn  service  at  St.  Paul's,  1  came  to  Dr.  John- 
son, and  found  Mr.  Lowe,  the  painter,  sitting  with  him. 
Mr.  Lowe  mentioned  the  great  number  of  new  build- 
ings of  late  in  London,  yet  that  Dr.  .Johnson  had 
observed,    that    the   number  of   inhabitants   was  not 


DR.    JOHNSON.  31S 

increased.  Johnson.  "  Why,  Sir,  the  bills  of  mortal-  '783. 
ity  prove  that  no  more  people  die  now  than  formerly  ;  £,x^ 
so  it  is  plain  no  more  live.  The  register  of  births  74.* 
proves  nothing,  for  not  one  tenth  of  the  people  of 
London  are  born  there."  Boswell.  "  I  believe,  Sir, 
a  great  many  of  the  children  born  in  London  die  early." 
Johnson.  "Why,  yes.  Sir."  Boswell.  "But  those 
who  do  live,  are  as  stout  and  strong  people  as  any  : 
Dr.  Price  says,  they  must  be  naturally  strong  to  get 
through."  Johnson.  "  That  is  system,  Sir.  A  great 
traveller  observes,  that  it  is  said  there  are  no  weak  or 
deformed  people  among  the  Indians ;  but  he  with 
much  sagacity  assigns  the  reason  of  this,  which  is,  that 
the  hardship  of  their  hfe  as  hunters  and  fishers,  does 
not  allow  weak  or  diseased  children  to  grow  up.  Now- 
had  I  been  an  Indian,  I  must  have  died  early  ;  mv 
eyes  would  not  have  served  me  to  get  food.  1  indeed 
now  could  fish,  give  me  English  tackle  ;  but  had  I 
been  an  Indian  1  must  have  starved,  or  they  would 
have  knocked  me  on  the  head,  when  they  saw  I  could 
do  nothing."  Boswell.  "  Perhaps  they  would  have 
taken  care  of  you  ;  we  are  told  they  are  fond  of  ora- 
tory, you  would  have  talked  to  them."  Johnson. 
"  Nay,  Sir,  I  should  not  have  lived  long  enough  to  be 
fit  to  talk  ;  1  should  have  been  dead  before  1  was  ten 
years  old.  Depend  upon  it.  Sir,  a  savage,  when  he  is 
hungry,  will  not  carry  about  with  him  a  looby  of  nine 
years  old,  who  cannot  help  himself.  They  have  no  af- 
fection, Sir."  Boswell.  "  1  believe  natural  affection, 
of  which  we  hear  so  much,  is  very  small."  Johnson. 
"  Sir,  natural  affection  is  nothing  :  but  affection  from 
principle  and  established  duty,  is  sometimes  wonder- 
fully strong."  Lowe.  "  A  hen,  Sir,  will  feed  her 
chickens  in  preference  to  herself."  Johnson.  "  But 
we  don't  know  that  the  hen  is  hungry  ;  let  the  hen  be 
fairly  hungry,  and  I'll  warrant  she'll  peck  the  corn  her- 
self. A  cock,  I  believe,  will  feed  hens  instead  of  him- 
self;  but  we  don't  know  that  the  cock  is  hungry." 
Boswell.  "  And  that,  Sir,  is  not  from  affection  but 
gallantry.  But  some  of  the  Indians  have  affection  " 
Johnson.  "  Sir,  that  they  help  some  of  their  children 

VOL.  III.  40 


314  THE    LTFK    OF 

1783.  is  plain  ;  for  some  of  them  live,  which  they  could  not 

^J^  do  without  being  helped." 
74.*      1  dined   with  him  ;  the  company  were,  Mrs.  Wil- 
liams, Mrs.  Desmoulins,  and  Mr.  Lowe.     He  seemed 
not  to  be  well,   talked  little,  grew  drowsy  soon  after 
dinner,  and  retired,  upon  which  1  went  away. 

Having  next  day  gone  to  Mr.  Burke's  seat  in  the 
country,  from  whence  I  was  recalled  by  an  express, 
that  a  near  relation  of  mine  had  killed  his  antagonist 
in  a  duel,  and  was  himself  dangerously  wounded,  1  saw 
little  of  Dr.  Johnson  till  Monday,  April  28,  when  I 
spent  a  considerable  part  of  the  day  with  him,  and  in- 
troduced the  subject,  which  then  chiefly  occupied  my 
mind.  Johnson.  "  I  do  not  see,  Sir,  that  fighting  is 
absolutely  forbidden  in  Scripture  ;  1  see  revenge  for- 
bidden, but  not  self-defence."  Boswell.  "  The  Qua- 
kers say  it  is  ;  '  Unto  him  that  smiteth  thee  on  one 
cheek,  offer  him  also  the  other."  Johnson.  "  But 
stay.  Sir  ;  the  text  is  meant  only  to  have  the  effect  of 
moderating  passion  ;  it  is  plain  that  we  are  not  to  take 
it  in  a  literal  sense.  We  see  this  from  the  context, 
where  there  are  other  recommendations,  which  1  war- 
rant you  the  Quaker  will  not  take  literally  ;  as,  for 
instance,  '  From  him  that  would  borrow  of  thee,  turn 
thou  not  away.'  Let  a  man  whose  credit  is  bad,  come 
to  a  Quaker,  and  say,  '  Well,  Sir,  lend  me  a  hundred 
pounds  ;'  he'll  find  him  as  unwilling  as  any  other  man. 
No,  Sir,  a  man  may  shoot  the  man  who  invades  his 
character,  as  he  may  shoot  him  who  attempts  to  break 
into  his  house.'     So  in    l74o,  my  friend,  Tom  Cum- 

'  I  think  it  necessary  to  caution  my  readers  against  concluding  that  in  this  or 
any  other  conversation  of  Dr.  Johnson,  they  have  his  serious  and  deliberate  opin- 
ion on  the  subject  of  duelling.  In  my  Journal  of  a  Tour  to  the  Hebrides,  3  edit, 
p.  386,  it  appears  that  he  made  this  frank  confession  :  "  Nobody  at  times,  talks 
more  laxly  than  I  do  ;"  and,  ibid.  p.  231.  "  He  fairly  owned  he  could  not  explain 
the  rationality  of  duelling."  We  may,  therefore,  infer,  that  he  could  not  think 
that  justifiable,  which  seems  so  inconsistent  with  the  spirit  of  the  Gospel.  At  the 
same  time  it  must  be  confessed,  that  from  the  prevalent  notions  of  honour,  a  gen- 
tleman who  receives  a  challenge  is  reduced  to  a  dreadful  alternative.  A  remarka- 
ble instance  of  this  is  furnished  by  a  clause  in  the  will  of  the  late  Colonel  Thomas, 
of  the  Guards,  written  the  night  before  he  fell  in  a  duel,  September  f5,  1783  :  "  In 
the  first  place,  I  commit  my  soul  to  Almighty  God,  in  hopes  of  his  mercy  and  par- 
don for  the  irreligious  step  I  now  (in  compliance  with  the  unwarrantable  customs 
of  this  wicked  worldj  put  myself  under  the  necessity  of  taking." 


DR.    JOHNSON.  315. 

ming  the  Quaker,  said  he  would  not  fight,  but  he  J783. 
would  drive  an   ammunition  cart  ;  and  we  know  that  ^^'^ 
the  Quakers  have  sent  flannel  waistcoats  to  our  sol-    74. 
diers,  to  enable   them  to   fight  better."       Boswell. 
"  When  a  man  is  the  aggressor,  and  by  ill-usage  forces 
on   a  duel  in   which  he  is  killed,  have  we  not  little 
ground  to  hope  that  he  is  gone  to  a  state  of  happiness  V 
Johnson.  "  Sir,  we  are  not  to  judge  determinately  of 
the  state  in  which  a  man  leaves  this  life.     He  may  in 
a  moment  have  repented  effectually,  and  it  is  possible 
may  have  been  accepted  of  God.     There  is  in   '  Cam- 
den's Remains,'  an  epitaph  upon  a  very  wicked  man, 
who  was  killed  by  a  fall  from  his  horse,  in  which  he  is 
supposed  to  say, 

"  Between  the  stirrup  and  the  ground, 
"  1  mercy  ask'd,  i  mercy  found." « 

Boswell.  "  Is  not  the  expression  in  the  Burial-service* 
'  in  the  sure  and  certain  hope  of  a  blessed  resurrec- 
tion ;'  too  strong  to  be  used  indiscriminately,  and,  in- 
deed, sometimes  when  those  over  whose  bodies  it  is 
said,  have  been  notoriously  profane  ]"  Johnson.  "  It 
is  sure  and  certain  hope^  Sir  ;  not  be/ief."  I  did  not 
insist  further  ;  but  cannot  help  thinking  that  less  pos- 
itive words  would  be  more  proper. » 

Talking  of  a  man  who  was  grown  very  fat,  so  as  to 
be  incommoded  with  corpulency  ;  he  said,  "  He  eats 
too  much.  Sir."     Boswell.  "  1  don't  know,  Sir,  you 

*  [In  repeatiog  this  epitaph  Johnson  improved  it.    The  original  run»  thus  : 

"  Betivixt  the  stirrup  and  the  ground, 
"  Mercy  I  asked,  mercy  I  found."     M.] 

'  Upon  this  objection  the  Reverend  Mr.  Ralph  Churton,  Fellow  of  Brazennose 
College,  Oxford,  has  favoured  me  with  the  following  satisfactory  observation. 
•*  The  passage  in  the  Burial-service,  does  not  mean  the  resurrection  of  the  person 
interred,  but  the  general  resurrection  ;  it  is  in  sure  and  certain  hope  of  the  resur- 
rection ;  not  his  resurrection.  Where  the  deceased  is  really  spoken  of,  the  expres- 
sion is  very  different,  "  as  our  hope  is  this  our  brother  doth,"  [rest  in  Christ]  a 
mode  of  speech  consistent  with  every  thing  but  absolute  certainty  that  the  person 
departed  doth  not  rest  in  Christ,  which  no  one  can  be  assured  of,  without  immedi- 
ate revelation  from  Heaven.  In  the  first  of  these  places  also,  "  eternal  liie"  does  ^ 
not  necessarily  mean  eternity  of  bliss,  but  merely  the  eternity  of  the  state,  whether 
in  happiness  or  in  misery,  to  ensue  upon  the  resurrection  ;  which  is  probably  the 
sense  of  "  the  life  everlasting,"  in  the  Apostles  Creed.  See  Wheatly  and  Bennet 
oji  the  Common  Prayer." 


516  THE    LIFE    OF 

1783.  will  see  one  man  fat  who  eats  moderately,  and  another 
^■^  lean   who  eats  a  great  deal."     Johnson.  "  Nay,  Sir, 

74  whatever  may  be  the  quantity  that  a  man  eats,  it  is 
plain  that  if  he  is  too  fat,  he  has  eaten  more  than  he 
should  have  done.  One  man  may  have  a  digestion 
that  consumes  food  better  than  common  ;  but  it  is 
certain  that  solidity  is  encreased  by  putting  something 
to  it."  Bf>s\VELL.  "  But  ma>  not  solids  swell  anck  be 
distended  ?"  Johnson.  "  Yes,  Sir,  they  may  sweUi 
and  be  distended  ;  but  that  is  not  fat." 

We  talked  of  the  accusation  agamst  a  gentleman  for 
supposed  delinquencies  in  India.  Johnson.  "  What 
foundati<^n  there  is  for  accusation  I  know  not,  but  they 
will  not  get  at  him.  Where  bad  actions  are  commit- 
ted at  so  great  a  distance,  a  delinquent  can  obscure  the 
evidence  till  the  scent  becomes  cold  ;  there  is  a  cloud 
between  which  cannot  be  penetrated  :  therefore  all 
distant  power  is  bad.  I  am  clear  that  the  best  plan 
for  the  government  uf  India  is  a  despotick  governour  ; 
for  if  he  be  a  good  man,  it  is  evidently  the  best  gov- 
ernment ;  and  supposing  him  to  be  a  bad  man,  it  i* 
better  to  have  one  }>lunderer  than  many.  A  govern- 
our, whose  power  is  checked,  lets  others  plunder,  that 
he  himself  may  be  allowed  to  plunder  ;  but  if  despot- 
ick, he  sees  that  the  more  he  lets  others  plunder,  the 
less  there  will  be  for  himself,  so  he  restrains  them  ; 
and  though  he  himself  plunders,  the  country  is  a 
gainer,  compared  with  being  plundered  by  numbers.'^ 
1  mentioned  the  very  liberal  payment  which  had 
been  received  for  reviewing  ;  and^  as  evidence  of  this, 
that  it  had  been  proved  in  a  trial,  that  Dr.  Shebbeare 
had  received  six  guineas  a  sheet  for  that  kind  of  lit- 
erary labour.  Johnson.  "  Sir,  he  might  get  six  guineas 
for  a  particular  sheet,  but  not  communihus  sJieetihusP' 
BoswELL.  "  Pray,  Sir,  by  a  sheet  of  review  is  it  meant 
that  it  shall  be  all  of  the  writer's  own  compositicm  \  or 
are  extracts,  made  from  the  book  reviewed,  deducted." 
Johnson.  "  No,  Sir ;  it  is  a  sheet,  no  matter  of  what." 
BoswELL.  "  1  think  that  it  is  not  reasonable."  John- 
son. "  Yes,  Sir,  it  is.  A  man  will  more  easily  write  a 
sheet  all  his  own,  than  read  an  octavo  volume  to  get 


DR.   JOHNSON.  317 

extracts."  To  one  of  Johnson's  wonderful  fertility  of  1783. 
mind,  i  believe  writing  was  really  easier  than  reading  '^^ 
and  extracting  ;  but  with  ordinary  men  the  case  is  74. 
very  different.  A  great  deal,  indeed,  will  depend  upon 
the  care  and  judgement  with  which  extracts  are  made. 
I  can  suppose  the  operation  to  be  tedious  and  difficult; 
but  in  many  instances  we  must  observe  crude  morsels 
cut  out  of  books  as  if  at  random  ;  and  when  a  large 
extract  is  made  from  one  place,  it  surely  may  be  done 
with  very  little  trouble.  One,  however,  I  must  ac- 
knowledge, might  be  led,  from  the  practice  of  revieyv- 
ers,  to  suppose  that  they  take  a  pleasure  in  original 
writing;  for  we  often  find,  that  instead  of  giving  an 
accurate  account  of  what  has  been  done  by  the  authour 
whose  work  they  are  reviewing,  which  is  surely  the 
proper  business  of  a  literary  journal,  they  produce  some 
plausible  and  ingenious  conceits  of  their  own,  upon  the 
topicks  which  have  been  discussed. 

Upon  being  told  that  old  Mr.  Sheridan,  indignant 
at  the  neglect  of  his  oratorical  plans,  had  threatened  to 
go  to  America  ; — Johnson.  "  1  hope  he  will  go  to 
America."  Boswell.  "  The  Americans  don't  want 
oratory."     Johnson.  "  But  we  can  want  Sheridan." 

On  Monday,  April  29,  I  found  him  at  home  in  the 
forenoon,  and  Mr.  Seward  with  him.  Horace  having 
been  mentioned; — Boswell.  "There  is  a  great  deal 
of  thinking  in  his  works.  One  finds  there  almost  every 
thing  but  religion."  Seward.  "  He  speaks  of  his 
returning  to  it,  in  his  Ode  Parous  Deorum  cultor  et 
infrequens"  Johnson.  "Sir,  he  was  not  in  earnest; 
this  was  merely  poetical."  Boswell.  "  There  are,  I 
am  afraid,  many  people  who  have  no  religion  at  all." 
Seward.  "  And  sensible  people  too."  Johnson. 
"  Why,  Sir,  not  sensible  in  that  respect.  There  must 
be  either  a  natural  or  a  moral  stupidity,  if  one  lives  in 
a  total  neglect  of  so  very  important  a  concern."  Se- 
ward. "1  wonder  that  there  should  be  people  without 
religion."  Johnson.  "  Sir,  you  need  not  wonder  at 
this,  when  you  consider  how  large  a  proportion  of 
almost  every  man's  life  is  passed  without  thinking  of  it. 
I  myself  was  for  some  years  totally  regardless  of  relig- 


318  THE    LIFE    OP 

1783.  ion.  It  had  dropped  out  of  my  mind.  It  was  at  an 
2^J^  early  part  of  my  life.  Sickness  brought  it  back,  and  I 
74.  hope  i  have  never  lost  it  since."  Boswell.  "  My 
dear  Sir,  what  a  man  must  you  have  been  without  re- 
ligion !  Why  you  must  have  gone  on  drinking,  and 
swearing,  and — "Johnson,  (with  a  smile)  "I  drank 
enough  and  swore  enough  to  be  sure."  Sewakd. 
"  One  should  think  that  sickness,  and  the  view  of  death 
would  make  more  men  religious."  Johnson.  "  Sir, 
they  do  not  know  how  to  go  about  it :  they  have  not 
the  first  notion.  A  man  who  has  never  had  religion 
before,  no  more  grows  religious  when  he  is  sick,  than  a 
man  who  has  never  learnt  figures  can  count  when  he 
has  need  of  calculation. 

I  mentioned  a  worthy  friend  of  ours  whom  we  valued 
much,  but  observed  that  he  was  too  ready  to  introduce 
religious  discourse  upon  all  occasions.  Johnson. 
*'  Why,  yes,  Sir,  he  will  introduce  religious  discourse 
without  seeing  whether  it  will  end  in  instruction  and 
improvement,  or  produce  some  profane  jest.  He 
would  introduce  it  in  the  company  of  Wilkes,  and 
twenty  more  such." 

1  mentioned  Dr.  Johnson's  excellent  distinction  be- 
tween liberty  of  conscience  and  liberty  of  teaching. 
Johnson.  "Consider,  Sir;  if  you  have  children  whom 
you  wish  to  educate  in  the  principles  of  the  Church  of 
England,  and  there  comes  a  Quaker  who  tries  to  per- 
vert them  to  his  principles,  you  would  drive  away  the 
Quaker.  You  would  not  trust  to  the  predomination  of 
right ;  which  you  believe  is  in  your  opinions  ;  you  will 
keep  wrong  out  of  their  heads.  Now  the  vulgar  are 
the  children  of  the  Slate.  If  any  one  attempts  to  teach 
them  doctrines  contrary  to  what  the  State  approves,  the 
magistrates  may  and  ought  to  restrain  him."  Seward. 
"  Would  you  restrain  private  conversation.  Sir  ?"  John- 
son. "  Why,  Sir,  it  is  difficult  to  say  where  private  con- 
versation begins,  and  where  it  ends.  If  we  three  should 
discuss  even  the  great  question  concerning  the  exist- 
ence of  a  Supreme  Being  by  ourselves,  we  should  not 
be  restrained  ;  for  that  would  be  to  put  an  end  to  all 
improvement.     But  if  we  should  discuss  it  in  the  pres- 


DR.   JOHNSON.  319 

ence  of  ten  boarding-school  girls,  and  as  many  boys,  1  '783. 
think  the  magistrate  would  do  well  to  put  us  in  the  ^^^ 
stocks,  to  finish  the  debate  there."  74. 

Lord  Hailes  had  sent  him  a  present  of  a  curious  little 
printed  poem,  on  repairing  the  University  of  Aberdeen, 
by  David  Malloch^  which  he  thought  would  please 
Johnson,  as  affording  clear  evidence  that  Mallet  had 
appeared  even  as  a  literary  character  by  the  name  of 
Malloch  ;  his  changing  which  to  one  of  softer  sound, 
had  given  Johnson  occasion  to  introduce  him  into  his 
Dictionary,  under  the  article  Alius.  ^  I  his  piece  was, 
I  suppose,  one  of  Mallet's  first  essays.  It  is  preserved 
in  his  works,  with  several  variations.  Johnson  having 
read  aloud,  from  the  beginning  of  it,  where  there  were 
some  common-place  assertions  as  to  the  superiority  of 
ancient  times  ; — "  How  false  (said  he)  is  all  this,  to  say 
that  in  ancient  times  learning  was  not  a  disgrace  to  a 
Peer  as  it  is  now.  In  ancient  times  a  Peer  was  as  ig- 
norant as  any  one  else.  He  would  have  been  angry 
to  have  it  thought  he  could  write  his  name.  Men  in 
ancient  times  dared  to  stand  forth  with  a  degree  of  ig- 
norance with  which  nobody  would  dare  now  to  stand 
forth.  1  am  always  angry,  when  I  hear  ancient  times 
praised  at  the  expence  of  modern  times.  There  is  now 
a  great  deal  more  learning  in  the  world  than  there  was 
formerly  ;  for  it  is  universally  diffused.  You  have,  per- 
haps, no  man  who  knows  as  much  Greek  and  Latin  as 
Bentley  ;  no  man  who  knows  as  much  mathematicks  as 
Newton  :  but  you  may  have  many  more  men  who 
know  Greek  and  Latin,  and  who  know  mathematicks." 

On  Thursday,  May  1,  1  visited  him  in  the  evening 
along  with  young  Mr.  Burke.     He  said,  "  It  is  strange 

'  [Malloch,  as  Mr.  Bindley  observes  to  me,  "  continued  to  write  his  name  thus, 
after  be  came  to  London.  His  verses  prefixed  to  the  second  edition  of  Thomson's 
'  Winter'  are  so  subscribed,  and  so  are  his  Letters  written  in  London,  and  pub- 
lished a  few  years  ago  in  '  the  European  Magazine  ;'  but  he  soon  afterwards 
adopted  the  alteration  to  Mallet,  for  he  is  so  called  in  the  list  of  Subscribers  to 
Savage's  Miscellanies  printed  in  1726  ;  and  thenceforward  uniformly  Mallet,  in 
all  his  writings."     M.] 

[A  notion  has  been  entertained,  that  no  such  exemplification  of  Alias  is  to  be 
found  in  Johnson's  Dictionary,  and  that  the  whole  story  was  waggishly  fabricated 
by  Wilkes  in  the  North  Britain.  The  real  fact  is,  that  it  is  not  to  be  found  in 
the  Folio,  or  Quarto  editions,  but  was  added  by  Johnson  in  lys  ©wn  Octa-vt  Abridge- 
ment, in  1756.     J,  B.~0.1 


B^O  THE    LIFE    OP 

1783.  that  there  should  be  so  Httle  reading  in  the  world,  and 
so  much  writing.  People  in  general  do  not  willingly 
read,  if  they  can  have  any  thing  else  to  amuse  them. 
There  must  be  an  external  impulse  ;  emulation,  or  van- 
ity, or  avarice.  The  progress  which  the  understanding 
makes  through  a  book,  has  more  pain  than  pleasure  in 
it.  Language  is  scanty,  and  inadequate  to  express  the 
nice  gradations  and  mixtures  of  our  feelings.  No  man 
reads  a  book  of  science  from  pure  inclination.  The 
books  that  we  do  read  with  pleasure  are  light  composi- 
tions, which  contain  a  quick  succession  of  events. 
However,  I  have  this  year  read  all  Virgil  through.  I 
read  a  book  of  the  Mna'id  every  night,  so  it  was  done 
in  twelve  nights,  and  I  had  a  great  delight  in  it.  The 
Georgicks  did  not  give  me  so  much  pleasure,  except 
the  fourth  book.  The  Eclogues  I  have  almost  all  by 
heart.  I  do  not  think  the  story  of  the  i^neid  interest* 
ing.  I  like  the  story  of  the  Odyssey  much  better ;  and 
this  not  on  account  of  the  wonderful  things  which  it 
contains  ;  for  there  are  wonderful  things  enough  in  the 
iEneid  ; — the  ships  of  the  Trojans  turned  to  sea- 
nymphs, — the  tree  at  Polydorus's  tomb  dropping  blood. 
The  story  of  the  Odyssey  is  interesting,  as  a  great  part 
of  it  is  domestick. — It  has  been  said,  there  is  pleasure 
in  writing,  particularly  in  writing  verses.  1  allow,  you 
may  have  pleasure  from  writing,  after  it  is  over,  if  you 
have  written  well  ;^  but  you  don't  go  willingly  to  it 
again.  1  know  when  I  have  been  -writing  verses,  1  have 
run  my  finger  down  the  margin,  to  see  how  many  1  had 
made,  and  how  few  1  had  to  make." 

He  seemed  to  be  in  a  very  placid  humour,  and  al- 
though I  have  no  note  of  the  particulars  of  young  Mr. 
Burke's  conversation,  it  is  but  justice  to  mention  in  gen- 
eral, that  it  was  such  that  Dr.  Johnson  said  to  me  after- 
wards, "  He  did  very  well  indeed  ;  1  have  a  mind  to 
tell  his  father. 

2  [Dum  piDgit,  fruitur  arte ;  postquam  pmxerat,  fruitur  fructuartis.    SzvrtCA. 
K.1 


DR.   JOHNSON.  321 

1783. 
"  TO  SIR  JOSHUA  REYNOLDS.  ^-^-w 

^'  DEAR  SIR,  ^4 

"  The  gentleman  who  waits  on  you  with  this,  is 
Mr.  Cruikshanks,  who  wishes  to  succeed  his  friend  Dr. 
Hunter,  as  professor  of  Anatomy  in  the  Royal  Academy. 
His  qualifications  are  very  generally  known,  and  it  adds 
dignity  to  the  institution  that  such  men^  are  candidates. 
I  am.  Sir, 

"  Your  most  humble  servant, 
"  ^%  2,  1783.  "  Sam.  Johnson.'^ 

I  have  no  minute  of  any  interview  with  Johnson  till 
Thursday,  May  15th,  when  1  find  what  follows:  Bos- 
well.  "  1  wish  much  to  be  in  Parhament,  Sir." 
Johnson.  "  Why,  Sir,  unless  you  come  resolved  to 
support  any  administration,  you  would  be  the  worse 
for  being  in  Parliament,  because  you  would  be  obliged 
to  live  more  expensively."  Boswell.  "  Perhaps,  Sir, 
I  should  be  the  less  happy  for  being  in  Parliament.  I 
never  would  sell  my  vote,  and  I  should  be  vexed  if 
things  went  wrong."  Johnson.  "  That's  cant,  Sir.  It 
would  not  vex  you  more  in  the  house,  than  in  the  gal- 
lery :  publick  affairs  vex  no  man."  Boswell.  "  Have 
not  they  vexed  yourself  a  little,  Sir  1  Have  not  you 
been  vexed  by  all  the  turbulence  of  this  reign,  and  by 
that  absurd  vote  of  the  House  of  Commons,  '  That 
the  influence  of  the  Crown  has  increased,  is  increasing, 
and  ought  to  be  diminished  ?"  Johnson.  "  Sir,  I  have 
never  slept  an  hour  less,  nor  eat  an  ounce  less  meat. 
I  would  have  knocked  the  factious  dogs  on  the  head, 
to  be  sure  ;  but  I  was  not  vexed"  Boswell.  "  I  de- 
clare. Sir,  upon  my  honour,  I  did  imagine  I  was  vexed, 
and  took  a  pride  in  it  ;  but  it  zo^as^  perhaps,  cant  ;  for  I 
own  I  neither  eat  less,  nor  slept  less."  Johnson. 
"  My  dear  friend,  clear  your  mind  of  cant.  You  may 
talk  as  other  people  do  :  you  may  say  to  a  man,  '  Sir, 
I  am  your  most  humble  servant.'  You  are  not  his 
most  humble  servant.     You  may  say,  '  These  are  bad 

'  Let  it  be  remembered  by  those  who  accuse  Dr.  Johnson  of  iUiberality,  th« 
both  were  ScoUhmen, 

VOL,  IIT,  41 


322  THE    LIFE    OF 

1783.  times  ;  it  is  a  melancholy  thing  to  be  reserved  to  such 
^J^  times/  You  don't  mind  the  times.  You  tell  a  man, 
74.  '  1  am  sorry  you  had  such  bad  weather  the  last  day  of 
your  journey,  and  were  so  much  wet.*  You  don't  care 
six-pence  whether  he  is  wet  or  dry.  You  may  talk 
in  this  manner  ;  it  is  a  mode  of  talking  in  Society  : 
but  don't  think  foolishly." 

1  talked  of  living  in  the  country.  Johnson.  "  Don't 
set  up  for  what  is  called  hospitality  :  it  is  a  waste  of 
time,  and  a  waste  of  money  ;  you  are  eaten  up,  and 
not  the  more  respected  for  your  liberality.  If  your 
house  be  like  an  inn,  nobody  cares  for  you.  A  man 
who  stays  a  week  with  another,  makes  him  a  slave  for 
a  week."  Boswell.  "  But  there  are  people.  Sir,  who 
make  their  houses  a  home  to  their  guests,  and  are 
themselves  quite  easy."  Johnson.  "  Then,  Sir,  home 
must  be  the  same  to  the  guests,  and  they  need  not 
come." 

Here  he  discovered  a  notion  common  enough  in 
persons  not  much  accustomed  to  entertain  company, 
that  there  must  be  a  degree  of  elaborate  attention, 
otherwise  company  will  think  themselves  neglected ; 
and  such  attention  is  no  doubt  very  fatiguing.  He 
proceeded  :  "  I  would  not,  however,  be  a  stranger  in 
my  own  country  ;  I  would  visit  my  neighbours,  and 
receive  their  visits  ;  but  1  would  not  be  in  haste  to 
return  visits.  If  a  gentleman  comes  to  see  me,  I  tell 
him  he  does  me  a  great  deal  of  honour.  I  do  not  go 
to  see  him  perhaps  for  ten  weeks  ;  then  we  are  very 
Complaisant  to  each  other.  No,  Sir,  you  will  have 
much  more  influence  by  giving  or  lending  money 
where  it  is  wanted,  than  by  hospitality." 

On  Saturday,  May  17,  1  saw  him  for  a  short  time. 
Having  mentioned  that  I  had  that  morning  been  with 
old  Mr.  Sheridan,  he  remembered  their  former  intimacy 
with  a  cordial  warmth,  and  said  to  me,  "  Tell  Mr. 
Sheridan,  1  shall  be  glad  to  see  him,  and  shake  hands 
with  him."  Boswell.  "  It  is  to  me  very  wonderful 
that  resentment  should  be  kept  up  so  long."  John- 
son. "  Why,  Sir,  it  is  not  altogether  resentment  that 
he  does  not  visit  me  ;  it  is  partly  falling  out  of  the 


DR.   JOHNSON.  323 

habit, — partly  disgust,  as  one  has  at  a  drug  that  has  17B3. 
made  him  sick.  Besides,  he  knows  that  1  laugh  at  his  ^^^ 
oratory.''  74. 

Another  day  I  spoke  of  one  of  our  friends,  of  whom 
he,  as  well  as  I,  had  a  very  high  opinion.  He  expa- 
tiated in  his  praise  ;  but  added,  "  Sir,  he  is  a  cursed 
Whig,  a  bottomless  Whig,  as  they  all  are  now." 

I  mentioned  my  expectations  from  the  interest  of  an 
eminent  person  then  in  power  ;  adding,  "  but  I  have 
no  claim  but  the  claim  of  friendship  ;  however,  som^ 
people  will  go  a  great  way  for  that  motive."  John- 
son. "  Sir,  they  will  go  all  the  way  from  that  motive." 
A  gentleman  talked  of  retiring.  "  Never  think  of 
that,"  said  Johnson.  The  gentleman  urged,  "  I  should 
then  do  no  ill."  Johnson.  "  Nor  no  good  either. 
Sir,  it  would  be  a  civil  suicide." 

On  Monday,  May  26,  1  found  him  at  tea,  and  the 
celebrated  Miss  Burney,  the  authour  of  "  Evelina" 
and  "  Cecilia,"  with  him.  I  asked,  if  there  would  be 
any  speakers  in  Parliament,  if  there  were  no  places  to 
be  obtained.  Johnson.  "  Yes,  Sir.  Why  do  you 
speak  here  \  Either  to  instruct  and  entertain,  which  is 
a  benevolent  motive  ;  or  for  distinction,  which  is  a 
selfish  motive."  I  mentioned  "  Cecilia."  Johnson. 
(with  an  air  of  animated  satisfaction)  "  Sir,  if  you  talk 
of  '  Cecilia,'  talk  on." 

We  talked  of  Mr.  Barry's  exhibition  of  his  pictures. 
Johnson.  "  Whatever  the  hand  may  have  done,  the 
mind  has  done  its  part.  There  is  a  grasp  of  mind 
there,  which  you  find  no  where  else."* 

1  asked,  whether  a  man  naturally  virtuous,  or  one 
who  has  overcome  wicked  inclinations,  is  the  best. 
Johnson.  "  Sir,  to  you^  the  man  who  has  overcome 
wicked  inchnations,  is  not  the  best.  He  has  more 
merit  to  himself :  I  would  rather  trust  my  money  to  a 
man  who  has  no  hands,  and  so  a  physical  impossibility 
to  steal,  than  to  a  man  of  the  most  honest  principles. 
There  is  a  witty  satirical  story  of  Foote.  He  had  a 
small  bust  of  Garrick  placed  upon  his  bureau.     *  You 

4  In  Mr.  Barry's  printed  analysis,  or  description  of  these  pictures,  he  speaks  of 
Johnson's  character  in  the  highest  terms. 


324  THE    LIFE    OF 

1783.  may  be  surprised  (said  he)  that  I  allow  him  to  be  so 
^'^  near  my  gold  ; — but  you  will  observe,  he  has  no  hands." 
74.  On  Friday,  May  29,  being  to  set  out  for  Scotland 
next  morning,  1  passed  a  part  of  the  day  with  him  in 
more  than  usual  earnestness  ;  as  his  health  was  in  a 
more  precarious  state  than  at  any  time  when  I  had 
parted  from  him.  He,  however,  was  quick  and  lively, 
and  critical,  as  usual.  I  mentioned  one  who  was  a 
very  learned  man.  Johnson.  "  Yes,  Sir,  he  has  a 
great  deal  of  learning  ;  but  it  never  lies  straight. 
There  is  never  one  idea  by  the  side  of  another  ;  ^tis  all 
entangled  :  and  then  he  drives  it  so  awkwardly  upon 
conversation  !" 

1  stated  to  him  an  anxious  thought,  by  which  a  sin- 
cere Christian  might  be  disturbed,  even  when  conscious 
of  having  lived  a  good  life,  so  far  as  is  consistent  with 
human  infirmity  ;  he  might  fear  that  he  should  after- 
wards fall  away,  and  be  guilty  of  such  crimes  as  would 
render  all  his  former  religion  vain.  Could  there  be, 
upon  this  aweful  subject,  such  a  thing  as  balancing  of 
accounts  1  Suppose  a  man  who  has  led  a  good  life  for 
seven  years,  commits  an  act  of  wickedness,  and  in- 
stantly dies  ;  will  his  former  good  life  have  any  effect  in 
his  favour?  Johnson.  "  Sir,  if  a  man  has  led  a  good 
life  for  seven  years,  and  then  is  hurried  by  passion  to 
do  what  is  wrong,  and  is  suddenly  carried  off,  depend 
upon  it  he  will  have  the  reward  of  his  seven  years* 
good  life  :  God  will  not  take  a  catch  of  him.  Upon 
this  principle  Richard  Baxter  believes  that  a  Suicide 
may  be  saved.  '  If  (says  he)  it  should  be  objected  that 
what  1  maintain  may  encourage  suicide,  1  answer,  1  am 
not  to  tell  a  lie  to  prevent  it."  Boswell.  "  But  does 
not  the  text  say,  '  As  the  tree  falls,  so  it  must  lie  ?" 
Johnson.  "  Yes,  Sir  ;  as  the  tree  falls  :  but,— -(after  a 
little  pause) — that  is  meant  as  to  the  general  state  of 
the  tree,  not  what  is  the  effect  of  a  sudden  blast."  In 
short,  he  interpreted  the  expression  as  referring  to  con- 
dition, not  to  position.  The  common  notion,  therefore, 
seems  to  be  erroneous  ;  and  Shenstone's  witty  remark 
on  Divines  trying  to  give  the  tree  a  jerk  upon  a  death- 
bed, to  make  it  lie  favourably,  is  not  well  founded, 


DR.   JOHNSON.  325 

I  asked  him  what  works  of  Richard  Baxter's  I  should  1783. 
read.  He  said  "  Read  any  of  them  ;  they  are  all^JJ]^ 
good."  74. 

He  said,  "  Get  as  much  force  of  mind  as  you  can. 
Live  within  your  income.  Always  have  something 
saved  at  the  end  of  the  year.  Let  your  imports  be 
more  than  your  exports,  and  you'll  never  go  far  wrong.'" 

I  assured  him,  that  in  the  extensive  and  various 
range  of  his  acquaintance  there  never  had  been  any 
one  who  had  a  more  sincere  respect  and  affection  for 
him  than  I  had.  He  said  "  1  believe  it,  Sir.  Were  I 
in  distress,  there  is  no  man  to  whom  I  should  sooner 
come  than  to  you.  I  should  like  to  come  and  have 
a  cottage  in  your  park,  toddle  about,  live  mostly  on 
milk,  and  be  taken  care  of  by  Mrs.  Boswell.  She  and 
1  are  good  friends  now  ;  are  we  not  ?" 

Talking  of  devotion,  he  said,  "  Though  it  be  true 
that  '  God  dwelleth  not  in  Temples  made  with  hands/ 
yet  in  this  state  of  being,  our  minds  are  more  piously 
affected  in  places  appropriated  to  divine  worship,  than 
in  others.  Some  people  have  a  particular  room  in  their 
houses,  where  they  say  their  prayers  ;  of  which  I  do 
not  disapprove,  as  it  may  animate  their  devotion." 

He  embraced  me,  and  gave  me  his  blessing,  as  usual 
when  1  was  leaving  him  for  any  length  of  time.  I 
walked  from  his  door  to-day,  with  a  fearful  apprehen- 
sion of  what  might  happen  before  I  returned. 

^'  TO    THE    RIGHT    HONOURABLE  WILLIAM    WINDHAM- 
"  SIR, 

"  The  bringer  of  this  letter  is  the  father  of  Miss 
Philips,  5  a  singer,  who  comes  to  try  her  voice  on  the 
stage  at  Dublin. 

"  Mr.  Philips  is  one  of  my  old  friends  ;  and  as  I  am 
of  opinion  that  neither  he  nor  his  daughter  will  do  any 
thing  that  can  disgrace  their  benefactors,  1  take  the 
liberty  of  entreating  you  to  countenance  and  protect 
them  so  far  as  may  be  suitable  to  your  station^  and 

■'  Now  the  celebrated  Mrs.  Crouch. 

'■■  Mr.  Windham  was  at  this  time  in  Dublin,  Secretary  to  the  Earl  of  Northing- 
ton,  then  Lord  iieutenant  of  Ireland. 


3S6  THE    LIFE    OP 

1783.  character  ;  and  shall  consider  myself  as  obliged  by  any 
^^^  favourable  notice  which  they  shall  have  the  honour  of 
74,  *  receiving  from  you. 

"  I  am,  Sir, 

"  Your  most  humble  servant, 
"  London,  May  31,  1783.  "  Sam.  Johnson.'^ 

The  following  is  another  instance  of  his  active  be- 
nevolence : 

"  TO  SIR  JOSHUA  REYNOLDS. 
"  DEAR  SIR. 

"I  HAVE  sent  you  some  of  my  god-son's'  perform- 
ances, of  which  1  do  not  pretend  to  form  any  opinion. 
When  I  took  the  liberty  of  mentioning  him  to  you,  I 
did  not  know  what  I  have  since  been  told,  that  Mr. 
Moser  had  admitted  him  among  the  Students  of  the 
Academy.  What  more  can  be  done  for  him,  I  earn- 
estly entreat  you  to  consider  ;  for  1  am  very  desirous 
that  he  should  derive  some  advantage  from  my  connec- 
tion with  him.  If  you  are  inclined  to  see  him,  I  will 
bring  him  to  wait  on  you,  at  any  time  that  you  shall 
be  pleased  to  appoint. 

"  I  am.  Sir, 

"  Your  most  humble  servant, 
"  June  2,  1783.  "  Sam.  Johnson.*' 

My  anxious  apprehensions  at  parting  with  him  this 
year,  proved  to  be  but  too  well  founded  ;  for  not  long 
afterwards  he  had  a  dreadful  stroke  of  the  palsy,  of 
which  there  are  very  full  and  accurate  accounts  in  let- 
ters written  by  himself,  to  shew  with  what  composure 
of  mind,  and  resignation  to  the  Divine  Will,  his  steady 
piety  enabled  him  to  behave. 

"  TO  MR.  EDMUND  ALLEN. 
"  DEAR  SIR, 

"  It  has  pleased  God,  this  morning,  to  deprive 
me  of  the  powers  of  speech  ;  and  as  I  do  not  know  but 

'  Son  of  Mr.  Samuel  Patterson. 


I 


DR.  JOHNSON.  327 

that  it  may  be  his  further  good  pleasure  to  deprive  me  "^783. 
soon  of  my  senses,  1  request  you  will  on  the  receipt  of  ^J^ 
this  note,  come  to  me,  and  act  for  me,  as  the  exigences   74. 
of  my  case  may  require. 
"  1  am, 

"  Sincerely  yours, 
''June  17,  1783.  "  Sam.  Johnson." 

"  TO  THE  REVEREND  DR.  JOHN  TAYLOR. 
"  DEAR  SIR, 

"  It  has  pleased  God,  by  a  paralytick  stroke  in  the 
night,  to  deprive  me  of  speech. 

*'  I  am  very  desirous  of  Dr.  Heberden's  assistance,  as 
I  think  my  case  is  not  past  remedy.  Let  me  see  you 
as  soon  as  it  is  possible.  Bring  Dr.  Heberden  with 
you,  if  you  can  ;  but  come  yourself  at  all  events.  I  am 
glad  you  are  so  well,  when  1  am  so  dreadfully  attacked. 

"  1  think  that  by  a  speedy  application  of  stimulants 
much  may  be  done.     1  question  if  a  vomit,  vigorous 
and  rough,  would  not  rouse  the  organs  of  speech  to  ac-  1 
tion.     As  it  is  too  early  to  send,  I  will  try  to  recollect  ' 
what  1  can,  that  can  be  suspected  to  have  brought  on 
this  dreadful  distress. 

"  1  have  been  accustomed  to  bleed  frequently  for  an 
asthmatick  complaint ;  but  have  forborne  for  some  time 
by  Dr.  Pepys's  persuasion,   who  perceived  my  legs  be- 
ginning to  swell.     1  sometimes  alleviate  a  painful,  or  ' 
more  properly  an  oppressive,  constriction  of  my  chest, 
by  opiates  ;  and  have  lately  taken  opium  frequently, 
but  the  last,  or  two  last  times,  in  smaller  quantities. 
My  largest  dose  is  three  grains,  and  last  night  1  took 
but  two.     You  will  suggest  these  things  (and  they  are 
all  that  I  can  call  to  mind)  to  Dr.  Heberden. 
"  I  am,  &c. 
"  June  17,  1783.  «  Sam.  Johnson." 

Two  days  after  he  wrote  thus  to  Mrs.  Thrale :» 
"  On  Monday,  the  16th,  I  sat   for   my  picture,   and 
walked  a  considerable  way  with   little   inconvenience. 

'Vol.  11.  p.  268,  of  Mrs.  Thrale's  Collection. 


^28  THE    LIFE    OP 

1783.  In  the  afternoon  and  evening  I  felt  myself  light  and  ea- 
JStat.  ^y»  ^"^  began  to  plan  schemes  of  hfe.  Thus  1  went  to 
74.  bed,  and  in  a  short  time  waked  and  sat  up,  as  has  been 
long  my  custom,  when  I  felt  a  confusion  and  indis- 
tinctness in  my  head,  which  lasted,  i  suppose,  about 
half  a  minute.  I  was  alarmed,  and  prayed  God,  that 
however  he  might  afflict  my  body,  he  would  spare  my 
understanding.  This  prayer,  that  1  might  try  the  in- 
tegrity of  my  faculties,  1  made  in  Latin  verse.  The 
lines  were  not  very  good,  but  1  knew  them  not  to  be 
very  good  :  I  made  them  easily,  and  concluded  myself 
to  be  unimpaired  in  my  faculties. 

"  Soon  after  I  perceived  that  I  had  suffered  a  paralytick 
stroke,  and  that  my  speech  was  taken  from  me.  I  had 
no  pain,  and  so  little  dejection  in  this  dreadful  state, 
that  1  wondered  at  my  own  apathy,  and  considered  that 
perhaps  death  itself,  when  it  should  come,  would  excite 
less  horrour  than  seems  now  to  attend  it. 

"  In  order  to  rouse  the  vocal  organs,  1  took  two 
drams.  Wine  has  been  celebrated  for  the  production 
of  eloquence.  I  put  myself  into  violent  motion,  and  I 
think  repeated  it  ;  but  all  was  vain.  I  then  went  to 
bed,  and  strange  as  it  may  seem,  I  think  slept.  When 
I  saw  light,  it  was  time  to  contrive  what  1  should  do. 
Though  God  stopped  my  speech,  he  left  me  my  hand ; 
I  enjoyed  a  mercy  which  was  not  granted  to  my  dear 
friend  Lawrence,  who  now  perhaps  overlooks  me  as  I 
am  writing,  and  rejoices  that  1  have  what  he  wanted. 
My  first  note  was  necessarily  to  my  servant,  who  came 
m  talking,  and  could  not  immediately  comprehend  why 
he  should  read  what  I  put  into  his  hands. 

"  I  then  wrote  a  card  to  Mr.  Allen,  that  I  might  have 
a  discreet  friend  at  hand,  to  act  as  occasion  should  re- 
quire. In  penning  this  note,  I  had  some  difficulty  ; 
my  hand,  1  knew  not  how  nor  why,  made  wrong  letters. 
I  then  wrote  to  Dr.  Taylor  to  come  to  me,  and  bring 
Dr.  Heberden  :  and  1  sent  to  Dr.  Brocklesby,  who  is 
my  neighbour.  My  physicians  are  very  friendly,  and 
give  me  great  hopes  ;  but  you  may  imagine  my  situa- 
tion. I  have  so  far  recovered  my  vocal  powers,  as  to 
repeat  the  Lord's  Prayer  with  no  very  imperfect  articu- 


DR.   JOHNSON.  329 

Jation.  My  memory,  I  hope,  yet  remains  as  it  was  !  i783. 
but  such  an  attack  produces  solicitude  for  the  safety  of^ut! 
every  faculty/*  74. 

"  TO  MR.  THOMAS  DAVIES. 
"  DEAR  SIR, 

"  I  HAVE  had,  indeed,  a  very  heavy  blow  ;  but 
God,  who  yet  spares  my  life,  1  humbly  hope  will  spare 
my  understanding,  and  restore  my  speech.  As  1  am 
not  at  all  helpless,  I  want  no  particular  assistance,  but 
am  strongly  affected  by  Mrs.  Davies's  tenderness  ;  and 
when  1  think  she  can  do  me  good,  shall  be  very  glad  to 
call  upon  her.  I  had  ordered  friends  to  be  shut  out  ; 
but  one  or  two  have  found  the  way  in  ;  and  if  you  come 
you  shall  be  admitted  :  for  I  know  not  whom  1  can  see, 
that  will  bring  more  amusement  on  his  tongue,  or  more 
kindness  in  his  heart.  I  am,  &c. 
''June  18,  1783.  "Sam.  Johnson.*'  . 

It  gives  me  great  pleasure  to  preserve  such  a  memorial 
of  Johnson's  regard  for  Mr.  Davies,  to  whom  I  was  in- 
debted for  my  introduction  to  him.'  He  indeed  loved 
Davies  cordially,  of  which  1  shall  give  the  following 
little  evidence.  One  day  when  he  had  treated  him 
with  too  much  asperity,  Tom,  who  was  not  without 
pride  and  spirit,  went  off  in  a  passion  ;  but  he  had 
hardly  reached  home,  when  Frank,  who  had  been  sent 
after  him,  delivered  this  note  : — "  Come,  come,  dear 
Davies,  1  am  always  sorry  when  we  quarrel  ;  send  me 
word  that  we  are  friends." 

"  TO  JAMES  BOSWELL,  ESQ. 

**  DEAR  SIR, 

"  Your  anxiety  about  my  health  is  very  friendly, 
and  very  agreeable  with  your  general  kindness.  I  have, 
indeed,  had  a  very  frightful  blow.     On  the  17th  of  last 

»  Poor  Derrick,  however,  though  he  did  not  himself  introduce  me  to  Dr.  John- 
son as  he  promised,  had  the  merit  of  introducing  me  to  Davief,  the  immediate 
introductor. 

VOL.  Til.  4-2 


i 


330  THE    LIFE    OF 

1783.  month,  about  three  in   the  morning,  as  near  as  I  can    .j| 
^J^  guess,  I   perceived  myself  almost  totally  deprived  of  ^ 

74  .  speech.  I  had  no  pain.  My  organs  were  so  obstruct- 
ed that  I  could  say  no,  but  could  scarcely  say  t/es.  I 
wrote  the  necessary  directions,  for  it  pleased  God  to 
spare  my  hand,  and  sent  for  Dr.  Heberden  and  Dr. 
Brocklesby.  Between  the  time  in  which  1  discovered 
my  own  disorder,  and  that  in  which  1  sent  for  the  doc- 
tors, 1  had,  1  believe,  in  spite  of  my  surprize  and  solic- 
itude, a  little  sleep,  and  Nature  began  to  renew  its  ope- 
rations. They  came  and  gave  the  directions  which  the 
disease  required,  and  from  that  time  1  have  been  con- 
tinually improving  in  articulation.  I  can  now  speak, 
but  the  nerves  are  weak,  and  I  cannot  continue  dis- 
course long  ;  but  strength,  1  hope,  will  return.  The 
physicians  consider  me  as  cured.  1  was  last  Sunday  at 
church.  On  Tuesday  1  took  an  airing  to  Hampstead, 
and  dined  with  the  club,  where  Lord  Palmerston  was 
proposed,  and,  against  my  opinion,  was  rejected. '  I 
designed  to  go  next  week  with  Mr.  Langton  to  Roch- 
ester, where  1  purpose  to  stay  about  ten  days,  and  then 
try  some  other  air.  I  have  many  kind  invitations. 
Your  brother  has  very  frequently  enquired  after  me. 
Most  of  my  friends  have,  indeed,  been  very  attentive. 
Thank  dear  Lord  Hailes  for  his  present. 

"  I  hope  you  found  at  your  return  every  thing  gay 
and  prosperous,  and  your  lady,  in  particular,  quite  re- 
covered and  confirmed.  Pay  her  my  respects.  I  am, 
dear  Sir, 

"  Your  most  humble  servant, 
'•  London^  July  3,  1783.  ".  Sam.  Johnson.'' 

"to  MRS.  LUCY  PORTER,  IN  LICHFIELD. 
"  DEAR   MADAM, 

"  The  account  which  you  give  of  your  health  is 
but  melancholy.  May  it  please  God  to  restore  you. 
My  disease  affected  my  speech,  and  still  continues,  in 
some  degree,  to  obstruct  my  utterance  ;  my  voice  is 

'  His  Lordship  was  soon  after  chosen,  and  is  now  a  member  of  the  ci.ub 


DR.   JOHNSON.  331 

distinct  enough  for  a  while  ;  but  the  organs  being  still  1783. 
weak  are  quickly  weary :  but  in  other  respects  1  am,  1  J^ 
think,   rather  better  than  I  have  lately  been  ;  and  can    74. 
let  you  know  my  state  without  the  help  of  any  other 
hand. 

"  In  the  opinion  of  my  friends,  and  in  my  own,  I  am 
gradually  mending.  The  physicians  consider  me  as 
cured,  and  I  had  leave  four  days  ago,  to  wash  the  can- 
tharides  from  my  head.     Last  Tuesday  I  dined  at  the 

CLUB. 

"  I  am  going  next  week  into  Kent,  and  purpose  to 
change  the  air  frequently  this  summer  ;  whether  I  shall 
wander  so  far  as  Staffordshire  I  cannot  tell.  I  should 
be  glad  to  come.  Return  my  thanks  to  Mrs.  Cobb, 
and  Mr.  Pearson,  and  all  that  have  shewn  attention  to 
me. 

"  Let  us,  my  dear,  pray  for  one  another,  and  con- 
sider our  sufferings  as  notices  mercifully  given  us  to 
prepare  ourselves  for  another  state. 

"  I  live  now  but  in  a  melancholy  way.  My  old 
friend  Mr.  Levet  is  dead,  who  hved  with  me  in  the 
house,  and  was  useful  and  companionable  ;  Mrs.  Des- 
moulins  is  gone  away  ;  and  Mrs.  Williams  is  so  much 
decayed,  that  she  can  add  little  to  another's  gratifica- 
tions. The  world  passes  away,  and  we  are  passing  with 
it  ;  but  there  is,  doubtless,  another  world,  which  will 
endure  for  ever.  Let  us  all  fit  ourselves  for  it.  I 
am,  &c. 
"  London^  July  5,  1783.  "  Sam.  Johnson." 

Such  was  the  general  vigour  of  his  constitution,  that 
he  recovered  from  this  alarming  and  severe  attack  with 
wonderful  quickness  ;  so  that  in  July  he  was  able  to 
make  a  visit  to  Mr.  Langton  at  Rochester,  where  he 
passed  about  a  fortnight,  and  made  little  excursions  as 
easily  as  at  any  time  of  his  life.  In  August  he  went  as 
far  as  the  neighbourhood  of  Sahsbury,  to  Heale,  the 
seat  of  William  Bowles,  Esq.  a  gentleman  whom  I  have 
heard  him  praise  for  exemplary  religious  order  in  his 
family.  In  his  diary  I  find  a  short  but  honourable 
mention  of  this  visit : — "  August  28,  I  came  to  Heale 


332  THE    LIFE    OF 

1783.  without  fatigue.     30.     I  am  entertained  quite  to  my 
S^  mind."* 


74. 


"  TO  DR.   BROCKLESBY. 

"  Heale,  near  Salisbury,  Aug.  29,  1783. 

"  DEAR  SIR, 

"  Without  appearing  to  want  a  just  sense  of 
your  kind  attention,  I  cannot  omit  to  give  an  account 
of  the  day  which  seemed  to  appear  in  some  sort  peril- 
ous. I  rose  at  five,  and  went  out  at  six  ;  and  having 
reached  Sahsbury  about  nine,  went  forward  a  iew  miles 
in  my  friend's  chaxhot.  1  was  no  more  wearied  with 
the  journey,  though  it  was  a  high-hung,  rough  coach, 
than  1  should  have  been  forty  years  ago.  We  shall 
now  see  what  air  will  do.  The  country  is  all  a  plain  ; 
and  the  house  in  which  I  am,  so  far  as  1  can  judge  from 
my  window,  for  I  write  before  1  have  left  my  chamber, 
is  sufficiently  pleasant. 

"  Be  so  kind  as  to  continue  your  attention  to  Mrs. 
Williams  ;  it  is  great  consolation  to  the  well,  and 
still  greater  to  the  sick,  that  they  find  themselves  not 
neglected  ;  and  I  know  that  you  will  be  desirous  of 
giving  comfort,  even  where  you  have  no  great  hope  of 
giving  help. 

^  [In  his  letter  to  Mrs.  Thrale,  written  on  the  13th  of  August,  we  find  the  fol- 
lowing melancholy  paragraph : 

"  I  am  now  broken  with  disease,  without  the  alleviation  of  familiar  friendship  or 
domestick  society  :  I  have  no  middle  state  between  clamour  and  silence,  between 
general  conversation  and  self-tormenting  solitude.  Levet  is  dead,  and  poor  Will- 
iams is  making  haste  to  die  :  I  know  not  if  she  will  ever  more  come  out  of  her 
chamber." 

In  a  subsequent  letter  (August  26)  he  adds,  "  Mrs.  Williams  fancies  now  and  then 
that  ."^he  grows  better,  but  her  vital  powers  appear  to  be  slowly  burning  out. 
Nobody  thinks,  however,  that  she  will  very  soon  be  quite  wasted,  and  as  she 
suffers  me  to  be  of  very  little  use  to  her,  I  have  determined  to  pass  some  time  with 
Mr.  Bowles  near  Salisbury,  and  have  taken  a  place  for  Thursday. 

"  Some  benefit  may  be  perhaps  received  from  change  of  air,  some  from  change 
of  company,  and  some  from  mere  change  of  place.  It  is  not  easy  to  grow  well  in 
a  chamber  where  one  has  long  been  sick,  and  where  every  thing  seen,  and  every 
person  speaking,  revives  and  impresses  images  of  pain.  Though  it  be  true,  that 
no  man  can  run  away  from  himself,  yet  he  may  escape  from  many  causes  of  use- 
less uneasiness.  That  tbe  mind  is  its  oivn  place,  is  the  boast  of  a  fallen  angel  that 
had  learned  to  lie.  External  locaUty  has  great  effects,  at  least  upon  all  embodied 
beings.  I  hope  this  httle  journey  will  aiFord  me  at  least  some  suspense  of  meK 
ancholy."    M.] 


DR.   JOHNSON.  333 

"  Since  I  wrote  the  former  part  of  the  letter,  I  find  '783. 
that  by  the  course  of  the  post  1  cannot  send  it  before  J^ 
the  thirty-first.     1  am,  &c.  74. 

"  Sam.  Johnson." 

While  he  was  here,  he  had  a  letter  from  Dr.  Brock- 
lesby,  acquainting  him  of  the  death  of  Mrs.  Williams,* 
which  affected  him  a  good  deal.  Though  for  several 
years  her  temper  had  not  been  complacent,  she  had 
valuable  qualities,  and  her  departure  left  a  blank  in  his 
house.  Upon  this  occasion  he,  according  to  his  habit- 
ual course  of  piety,  composed  a  prayer.* 

I  shall  here  insert  a  few  particulars  concerning  him, 
with  which  1  have  been  favoured  by  one  of  his  friends. 

"  He  had  once  conceived  the  design  of  writing  the 
Life  of  Oliver  Cromwell,  saying,  that  he  thought  it 
must  be  highly  curious  to  trace  his  extraordinary  rise 
to  the  supreme  power,  from  so  obscure  a  beginning. 
He  at  length  laid  aside  his  scheme,  on  discovering  that 
all  that  can  be  told  of  him  is  already  in  print  ;  and 
that  it  is  impracticable  to  procure  any  authentick  in- 
formation in  addition  to  what  the  world  is  already 
possessed  of  ^ 

^  [In  his  letter  to  Miss  Susanna  Thrale,  Sept.  9,  1783,  he  thus  writes  :  "  Pray 
shew  Mamma  this  passage  of  a  letter  from  Dr.  Brocklesby.  '  Mrs.  Williams,  from 
mere  inanition,  has  at  length  paid  the  great  debt  to  nature  about  three  o'clock 
this  morning  (Sept.  6.)  She  died  without  a  struggle,  retaining  her  faculties  to  the 
very  last,  and,  as  she  expressed  it,  having  set  her  house  in  order,  was  prepared  to 
leave  it,  at  the  last  summons  of  nature." 

In  his  letter  to  Mrs.  Thrale,  Sept.  22,  he  adds,  "  Poor  Williams  has,  I  hope,  seen 
the  end  of  her  afflictions.  She  acted  with  prudence  and  she  bore  with  forti- 
tude.    She  has  left  me. 

"  Thou  thy  weary  task  has  done, 

"  Home  art  gone,  and  ta'en  thy  wages." 

Had  she  had  good  humour  and  prompt  elocution,  her  universal  curiosity  and 
comprehensive  knowledge  would  have  made  her  the  delight  of  all  that  knew  her. 
She  has  left  her  httle  to  your  charity-schooL"     M.] 

•*  Prayers  and  Meditations,  p.  226. 

'  Mr.  Malone  observes,  "  This,  however,  was  entirely  a  mistake,  as  appears 
from  the  Memoirs  published  by  Mr.  Noble.  Had  Johnson  been  furnished  with 
the  materials  which  the  industry  ot  that  gentleman  has  procured,  and  with  others 
which,  it  is  believed,  are  yet  preserved  in  manuscript,  he  would,  without  doubt, 
have  produced  a  most  valuable  and  curious  history  of  Cromwell's  life." 

[I  may  add,  that,  had  Johnson  given  us  a  Life  of  Cromwell,  we  should  not  hav^ 
been  disgusted  in  numberless  instances  with — "■  My  Lord  Protector"  and  "  My 
Lady  Protectbess  ;"  and  certainly  the  brutal  ruf&an  who  presided  in  the  bloody 


334*  THE    LIFE    OP 

J 783.      "  He  had  likewise  projected,  but  at  what  part  of  his 

I^J^  life  is  not  known,  a  work  to  shew  how  small  a  quantity 

74,    of  REAL  FICTION  there  is  in  the  world  ;  and  that  the 

same  images,   with  very  little  variation,  have  served  all 

the  authours  who  have  ever  written." 

"  His  thoughts  in  the  latter  part  of  his  life  were 
frequently  employed  on  his  deceased  friends.  He 
often  muttered,  these,  or  such  like  sentences  :  '  Poor 
man  !  and  then  he  died." 

"  Speaking  of  a  certain  literary  friend,  '  He  is  a  very 
pompous  puzzling  fellow,  (said  he  ;)  he  lent  me  a  letter 
once  that  somebody  had  written  to  him,  no  matter 
what  it  was  about ;  but  he  wanted  to  have  the  letter 
back,  and  expressed  a  mighty  value  for  it  ;  he  hoped  it 
was  to  be  met  with  again,  he  would  not  lose  it  for  a 
thousand  pounds.  1  layed  my  hand  upon  it  soon  af- 
terwards, and  gave  it  him.  I  believe,  1  said,  I  was 
very  glad  to  have  met  with  it.  O,  then  he  did  not 
know  that  it  signified  any  thing.  So  you  see,  when 
the  letter  was  lost  it  was  worth  a  thousand  pounds,  and 
when  it  was  found  it  was  not  worth  a  farthing." 

"  The  style  and  character  of  his  conversation  is 
pretty  generally  known  ;  it  was  certainly  conducted 
in  conformity  with  a  precept  of  Lord  Bacon,  but  it  is 
not  clear,  1  apprehend,  that  this  conformity  was  either 
perceived  or  intended  by  Johnson.  The  precept  al- 
luded to  is  as  follows  :  '  In  all  kinds  of  speech,  either 
pleasant,  grave,  severe,  or  ordinary,  it  is  convenient  to 
speak  leisurely,  and  rather  drawlingly  than  hastily  : 
because  hasty  speech  confounds  the  memory,  and  oft- 
entimes, besides  the  unseemliness,  drives  a  man  either 
to  stammering,  a  non-plus,  or  harping  on  that  which 
should  follow  ;  whereas  a  slow  speech  confirmeth  the 
memory,  addeth  a  conceit  of  wisdom  to  the  hearers, 
besides  a  seemliness  of  speech  and  countenance.^^  Dr. 
Johnson's  method  of  conversation  was  certainly  calcu- 
lated to  excite  attention,  and  to  amuse  and  instruct, 

assembly  that  murdered  their  sovereign,  would  have  been  characterized  by  very 
different  epithets  than  those  which  are  applied  to  him  in  this  work,  where  we 
find  him  described  as  "  the  bold  and  determined  Bradshaw."     M.] 

'•  [Hints  for  Civil  Conversation. — Bacon's  Works,  4to,  vol.  i.  p.  571.     M.] 


I 


DR.    JOHNSON.  335 

(as  it  happened,)   without  wearying  or  confusing  his  ^  783. 
company.     He  was  always  most  perfectly  clear  and  ^Etat! 
perspicuous  ;  and  his  language  was  so  accurate,  and    74. 
his  sentences  so  neatly  constructed,  that  his  conversa^ 
tion  might  have  been  all  printed  without  any  correc- 
tion.    At  the  same  time,  it  was  easy  and  natural  ;  the 
accuracy  of  it  had  no  appearance  of  labour,  constraint, 
or  stiffness  ;  he  seemed   more  correct  than  others,  by 
the  force  of  habit,  and  the  customary  exercises  of  his 
powerful  mind." 

"  He  spoke  often  in  praise  of  French  literature. 
*  The  French  are  excellent  in  this,  (he  would  say,) 
they  have  a  book  on  every  subject.'  From  what  he 
had  seen  of  them  he  denied  them  the  praise  of  superiour 
politeness,  and  mentioned,  with  very  visible  disgust, 
the  custom  they  have  of  spitting  on  the  floors  of  their 
apartments.  '  This,  (said  the  Doctor)  is  as  gross  a 
thing  as  can  well  be  done  ;  and  one  wonders  how  any 
man,  or  set  of  men,  can  persist  in  so  offensive  a  practice 
for  a  whole  day  together  ;  one  should  expect  that  the 
first  effort  towards  civilization  would  remove  it  even 
among  savages." 

"  Baxter's  '  Reasons  of  the  Christian  religion,'  he 
thought  contained  the  best  collection  of  the  evidences 
of  the  divinity  of  the  Christian  system." 

"  Chymistry  was  always  an  interesting  pursuit  with 
Dr.  Johnson.  Whilst  he  was  in  Wiltshire,  he  attend- 
ed some  experiments  that  were  made  by  a  physician  at 
Salisbury,  on  the  new  kinds  of  air.  In  the  course  of 
the  experiments  frequent  mention  being  made  of  Dr. 
Priestley,  Dr.  Johnson  knit  his  brows,  and  in  a  stern 
manner  enquired,  '  Why  do  we  hear  so  much  of  Dr. 
Priestley  V^      He  was  very  properly  answered,    '  Sir, 

'  I  do  not  wonder  at  Johnson's  displeasure  when  the  name  of  Dr.  Priestley  was 
mentioned ;  for  I  know  no  writer  who  has  been  suffered  to  publish  more  pernicious 
doctrines.  I  shall  instance  only  three.  Tint,  Materialis??! ;  by  which  »?/«(/ is  denied 
to  human  nature  ;  which,  if  believed,  must  deprive  us  of  every  elevated  principle. 
Secondly,  Necessity  ;  or  the  doctrine  that  every  action,  whether  good  or  bad,  is  in- 
cluded in  an  unchangeable  and  unavoidable  system  ;  a  notion  utterly  subversive  of 
moral  government.  Thirdly,  that  we  have  no  reason  to  think  that  the  future  world, 
(which,  as  he  is  pleased  to  inform  us,  will  be  adapted  to  our  merely  impro-ved  nature,) 
will  be  materially  different  from  this ;  which,  if  believed,  would  sink  wretched 
mertaU  into  despair,  as  they  could  no  longer  hope  for  the  "  rest  that  ranaineth  for 


33G  THE    LIFE    OF 

1783.  because  we  are  indebted  to  him  for  these  important 
^J^  discoveries/     On  this  Dr.  Johnson  appeared  well  con- 
74.    tent  ;  and  replied,  *  Well,  well,  I  believe  we  are  ;  and 
let  every  man  have  the  honour  he  has  merited." 

"  A  friend  was  one  day,  about  two  years  before  his 
death,  struck  with  some  instance  of  Dr.  Johnson's 
great  candour.  '  Well,  Sir,  (said  he,)  I  will  always  say 
that  you  are  a  very  candid  man.^ — '  Will  you,  {replied 
the  Doctor,)  I  doubt  then  you  will  be  very  singular. 
But,  indeed.  Sir,  (continued  he,)  I  look  upon  myself 
to  be  a  man  very  much  misunderstood.  1  am  not  an 
uncandid,  nor  am  1  a  severe  man.  1  sometimes  say 
more  than  I  mean,  in  jest  ;  and  people  are  apt  to  be- 
lieve me  serious  :  however,  1  am  more  candid  than  I 
was  when  1  was  younger.  As  I  know  more  of  man- 
kind, 1  expect  less  of  them,  and  am  ready  now  to  call 
»a  man  a  good  man,  upon  easier  terms  than  1  was  for- 
merly." 

On  his  return  from  Heale  he  wrote  to  Dr.  Burney. 
— "  I  came  home  on  the  18th  of  September,  at  noon, 
to  a  very  disconsolate  house.  You  and  I  have  lost  our 
friends  ;  but  you  have  more  friends  at  home.  My 
domestick  companion  is  taken  from  me.     She  is  much 

the  people  of  God,"  or  for  that  happiness  which  is  revealed  to  us  as  something  be. 
yond  our  present  conceptions  ;  but  would  feel  themselves  doomed  to  a  continuation 
of  the  uneasy  state  under  which  they  now  groan.  I  say  nothing  of  the  petulant 
intemperance  with  which  he  dares  to  insult  the  venerable  establishments  of  his 
country. 

As  a  specimen  of  his  writings,  I  shall  quote  the  following  passage,  which  appear? 
to  me  equally  absurd  and  impious,  and  which  might  have  been  retorted  upon 
him  by  the  men  who  were  prosecuted  for  burning  his  house.  "  1  cannot,  (say* 
he,)  as  a  necessarian,  [meaning  tiecessitariani\  hate  any  man  ;  because  I  consider  him 
as  being,  in  all  respects,  just  what  God  has  made  him  to  be ;  and  also  as  doing  ivitb 
respect  to  me,  nothing  but  what  he  was  expressly  disigned  and  appoi?ited  to  do  :  God 
being  the  only  cause,  and  men  nothing  more  than  the  hnstrumtnts  in  his  hands  to 
execute  all  his  pleasure.^  -Illustrations  of  Philosophical  Necessity,  p.  1 1  J. 

The  Reverend  Dr.  Parr,  in  a  late  trace,  appears  to  suppose  that  Dr.  Johnson  not 
only  endured,  but  almost  solicited,  an  intervieiv  ivith  Dr  Priestley.  In  justice  to  Dr.  John- 
son, I  declare  my  firm  beHef  that  he  never  did.  My  illustrious  friend  was  partic- 
ularly resolute  in  not  giving  countenance  to  men  whose  writings  he  considered  a* 
pernicious  to  society.  I  was  present  at  Oxford  when  Dr.  Price,  even  before  he 
had  rendered  himself  so  generally  obnoxious  by  his  zeal  for  the  French  revolution, 
came  into  a  company  where  Johnson  was,  who  instantly  left  the  room.  Much 
more  would  he  have  reprobated  Dr.  Priestley. 

Whoever  wishes  to  see  a  perfect  delineation  of  this  Literary  Jacl  of  all  Trades, 
may  find  it  in  an  ingenious  track,  entitled,  "  A  small  Whole-Length  of  Dr. 
Priestley,"  printed  for  Rivingtons  in  St.  Paul's  Church- Yard. 


DR.   JOHNSON*  337 

missed,  for  her  acquisitions  were  many,  and  her  curi-  '783. 
osity  universal  ;  so  that  she  partook  of  every  conver-  Jtat! 
sation.      I  am  not  well  enough  to  go  much  out ;  and  to   74. 
sit,  and  eat,  or  fast  alone,  is  very  wearisome.     1  always 
mean  to  send  my  compliments  to  all  the  ladies." 

His  fortitude  and  patience  met  with  severe  trials 
during  this  year.  The  stroke  of  the  palsy  has  been 
related  circumstantially  ;  but  he  was  also  afflicted  with 
the  gout,  and  was  besides  troubled  with  a  complaint 
which  not  only  was  attended  with  immediate  incon- 
venience, but  threatened  him  with  a  chirurgical  opera- 
tion, from  which  most  men  would  shrink.  Fhe  com- 
plaint was  a  sarcocele,  which  Johnson  bore  with 
uncommon  firmness,  and  was  not  at  all  frightened 
while  he  looked  forward  to  amputation.  He  was 
attended  by  Mr.  Pott  and  Mr.  Cruikshank.  I  have 
before  me  a  letter  of  the  30th  of  July  this  year,  to  Mr. 
Cruikshank,  in  which  he  says,  "  1  am  going  to  put 
myself  into  your  hands  :"  and  another,  accompanying 
a  set  of  his  "  Lives  of  the  Poets,"  in  which  he  says, 
"  1  beg  your  acceptance  of  these  volumes,  as  an  ac- 
knowledgement of  the  great  favours  which  you  have 
bestowed  on,  Sir,  your  most  obliged  and  most  humble 
servant."  1  have  in  my  possession  several  more  letters 
from  him  to  Mr.  Cruikshank,  and  also  to  Dr.  Mudge 
at  Plymouth,  which  it  would  be  improper  to  insert,  as 
they  are  filled  with  unpleasing  technical  details.  I 
shall,  however,  extract  from  his  letters  to  Dr.  Mudge 
such  passages  as  shew  either  a  felicity  of  expression  or 
the  undaunted  state  of  his  mind. 

"  My  conviction  of  your  skill,  and  my  belief  of  your 
friendship,  determine  me  to  intreat  your  opinion  and 
advice." — "  In  this  state  I  with  great  earnestness  desire 
you  to  tell  me  what  is  to  be  done.  Excision  is  doubt- 
less necessary  to  the  cure,  and  I  know  not  any  means 
of  palliation.  The  operation  is  doubtless  painful  ;  but 
is  it  dangerous  ?  The  pain  1  hope  to  endure  with  de- 
cency ;  but  I  am  loth  to  put  life  into  much  hazard." — 
"  By  representing  the  gout  as  an  antagonist  to  the 
palsy,  you  have  said  enough  to  make  it  welcome.  This 
is  not  strictly  the  first  fit,   but  I  hope  it  is  as  good  as 

VOL.  III.  43 


^36  THE    LIFE    OF 

1783.  the  first  ;  tor  it  is  the  second  that  ever  confined  me  ; 

jEt*!^  and  the  first  was  ten  years  ago,  much  less  fierce  and 

74.    fiery  than  this." — "  Write,  dear  Sir,   what  you  can  to 

inform  or  encourage  me.     The  operation  is  not  delayed 

by  any  fears  or  objections  of  mine." 

"  TO  BENNET  LANGTON,    ESQ. 
"  DEAR  SIR, 

"  You  may  very  reasonably  charge  me  with  insen- 
sibility of  your  kindness,  and  that  of  lady  Rothes,  since 
I  have  suffered  so  much  time  to  pass  without  paying 
any  acknowledgement.  I  now,  at  last,  return  my  thanks ; 
and  why  1  did  it  not  sooner  I  ought  to  tell  you.  I 
went  into  Wiltshire  as  soon  as  1  well  could,  and  was 
there  much  employed  in  palliating  my  own  malady. 
Disease  produces  much  selfishness.  A  man  in  pain  is 
looking  after  ease  ;  and  lets  most  other  things  go  as 
chance  shall  dispose  of  them.  In  the  mean  time  I  have 
lost  a  companion,^  to  whom  I  have  had  recourse  for  do- 
mestick  amusement  for  thirty  years,  and  whose  variety 
of  knowledge  never  was  exhausted  ;  and  now  return  to 
a  habitation  vacant  and  desolate.  1  carry  about  a  very 
troublesome  and  dangerous  complaint,  which  admits  no 
cure  but  by  the  chirurgical  knife.  Let  me  have  your 
prayers.  1  am,  &c. 
''"London,  Sept. '^9,  1783.  "Sam.  Johnson/' 

Happily  the  complaint  abated  without  his  being  put 
to  the  torture  of  amputation.  But  we  must  surely  ad- 
mire the  manly  resolution  which  he  discovered,  while 
it  hung  over  him. 

In  a  letter  to  the  same  gentleman  he  writes,  "  The 
gout  has  within  these  four  days  come  upon  me  with  a 
violence  which  I  never  experienced  before.  It  made 
me  helpless  as  an  infant." — And  in  another,  having 
mentioned  Mrs.  Williams,  he  says, — "  whose  death  fol- 
lowing that  of  Levet,  has  now  made  my  house  a  soli- 
tude.    She  left  her  little  substance  to  a  charity-school. 

'  Mrs.  Anna  Williams. 


DR.  JOHNSON.  339 

She  is,  I  hope,  where  there  is  neither  darkness,  nor  want,  17B3. 
nor  sorrow."  ^taT 

1  wrote  to  him,  begging  to  know  the  state  of  his  74. ' 
heahh,  and  mentioned  that  "  Baxter's  Anacreon,  which 
is  in  the  library  at  Auchinleck,  was,  I  find,  collated  by 
my  father  in  1727,  with  the  MS.  belonging  to  the  Uni- 
versity of  Leyden,  and  he  has  made  a  number  of  Notes 
upon  it.  Would  vou  advise  me  to  publish  a  new  edi- 
tion of  it  ?" 

His  answer  was  dated  September  30. — "  You  should 
not  make  your  letters  such  rarities,  when  you  know,  or 
might  know,  the  uniform  state  of  my  health.  It  is  very 
long  since  I  heard  from  you  ;  and  that  1  have  not  an- 
swered is  a  very  insufficient  reason  for  the  silence  of  a 
friend. — Your  Anacreon  is  a  very  uncommon  book  ; 
neither  London  nor  Cambridge  can  supply  a  copy  of 
that  edition.  Whether  it  should  be  reprinted,  you  can- 
not do  better  than  consult  Lord  Hailes. — Besides  my 
constant  and  radical  disease,  I  have  been  for  these  ten 
days  much  harassed  with  the  gout  ;  but  that  has  now 
remitted.  I  hope  God  will  yet  grant  me  a  little  longer 
life,  and  make  me  less  unfit  to  appear  before  him." 

He  this  autumn  received  a  visit  from  the  celebrated 
Mrs.  Siddons.  He  gives  this  account  of  it  in  one  of 
his  letters  to  Mrs.  Thrale  [October  27 : — ]  "  Mrs.  Sid- 
dons, in  her  visit  to  me,  behaved  with  great  modesty 
and  propriety,  and  left  nothing  behind  her  to  be  cen- 
sured or  despised.  Neither  praise  nor  money,  the  two 
powerful  corrupters  of  mankind,  seem  to  have  depraved 
her.  I  shall  be  glad  to  see  her  again.  Her  brother 
Kemble  calls  on  me,  and  pleases  me  very  well.  Mrs. 
Siddons  and  I  talked  of  plays  ;  and  she  told  me  her  in- 
tention of  exhibiting  this  winter  the  characters  of  Con- 
stance, Catharine,  and  Isabella,  in  Shakspeare." 

Mr.  Kemble  has  favoured  me  with  the  following 
minute  of  what  passed  at  this  visit. 

"  When  Mrs.  Siddons  came  into  the  room,  there 
happened  to  be  no  chair  ready  for  her,  which  he  observ- 
ing, said  with  a  smile,  '  Madam,  you  who  so  often 
occasion  a  want  of  seats  to  other  people,  will  the  more 
easily  excuse  the  want  of  one  yourself." 


340  THE    LIFE    OF 

1783.  "  Having  placed  himself  by  her,  he  with  great  good 
^^  humour  entered  upon  a  consideration  of  the  English 
74.  drama  ;  and,  among  other  enquiries,  particularly  asked 
her  which  of  Shakspeare's  characters  she  was  most 
pleased  with.  Upon  her  answering  that  she  thought 
the  character  of  Queen  Catharine,  in  Henry  the  b.ighth, 
the  most  natural  : — '  1  think  so  too,  Madam,  (said  he  ;) 
and  whenever  you  perform  it,  I  will  once  more  hobble 
out  to  the  theatre  myself.'  Mrs.  Siddons  promised  she 
■would  do  herself  the  honour  of  acting  his  favourite  part 
for  him  ;  but  many  circumstances  happened  to  prevent 
the  representation  of  King  Henry  the  Eighth  during 
the  Doctor's  life. 

"  in  the  course  of  the  evening  he  thus  gave  his 
opinion  upon  the  merits  of  some  of  the  principal  per- 
formers whom  he  remembered  to  have  seen  upon  the 
stage.  '  Mrs.  Porter,  in  the  vehemence  of  rage,  and 
Mrs.  Clive  in  the  sprightliness  of  humour,  1  have  never 
seen  equalled.  What  Clive  did  best,  she  did  better 
than  Garrick  ;  but  could  not  do  half  so  many  things 
well  ;  she  was  a  better  romp  than  any  I  ever  saw  in 
nature. — Pritchard,  in  common  life  was  a  vulgar  ideot ; 
she  would  talk  of  her  gozc?i(/  ;  but,  when  she  appeared 
upon  the  stage,  seemed  to  be  inspired  by  gentility  and 
understanding. — 1  once  talked  with  Colley  Cibber,  and 
thought  him  ignorant  of  the  principles  of  his  art. — Gar- 
rick, Madam,  was  no  declaimer  ;  there  was  not  one  of 
his  own  scene-shifters  who  could  not  have  spoken  To 
be^  or  not  to  be,  better  than  he  did  ;  yet  he  was  the 
only  actor  1  ever  saw,  whom  I  could  call  a  master  both 
in  tragedy  and  comedy  ;  though  1  liked  him  best  in 
comedy.  A  true  conception  of  character,  and  natural 
expression  of  it,  were  his  distinguished  excellencies.^ 
Having  expatiated^  with  his  usual  force  and  eloquence, 
on  Mr.  Garrick's  extraordinary  eminence  as  an  actor, 
he  concluded  with  this  compliment  to  his  social  talents  ; 
'  And  after  all,  Madam,  I  thought  him  less  to  be  en- 
vied on  the  stage,  than  at  the   head  of  a  table." 

Johnson,  indeed,  had  thought  more  upon  the  sub- 
ject of  acting  than  might  be  generally  supposed. 
Talking  of  it  one  day  to  Mr.  Kemble,  he  said,  "  Are 


DR.    JOHNSON.  341 

you,  Sir,  one  of  those  enthusiasts  who  believe  yourself  1783. 
transformed  into  the  very  character  you  represent  I"  ^^^^ 
Upon  Mr.  Kemble's  answering — that  he  had  never  felt   74. ' 
so  strong  a  persuasion  himself  ;  "  To  be  sure  not,  Sir, 
(said  Johnson  ;)  the  thing  is  impossible.     And  if  Gar- 
rick   really  believed  himself  to  be  that  monster,  Rich- 
ard the  Third,  he  deserved  to  be  hanged  every  time  he 
performed  it.''' 

["  TO  MRS.  LUCY    PORTER,  IN   LICHFIELD. 
"  DEAR    MADAM, 

"  The  death  of  poor  Mr.  Porter,  of  which  your 
maid  has  sent  an  acct)unt,  must  have  very  much  sur- 
prized you.  The  death  of  a  friend  is  almost  always 
unexpected  :  we  do  not  love  to  think  of  it,  and  there- 
fore are  not  prepared  for  its  coming.  He  was,  1  think, 
a  religious  man,  and  therefore  that  his  end  was  happy. 
"  Death  has  likewise  visited  my  mournful  habitation. 
Last  month  died  Mrs.  Williams,  who  had  been  to  me 
for  thirty  years  in  the  place  of  a  sister  :  her  knowledge 
was  great,  and  her  conversation  pleasing.  1  now  live 
in  cheerless  solitude. 

'  My  worthy  friend,  Mr.  John  Nichols,  was  present  when  Mr.  Henderson,  the 
actor,  paid  a  visit  to  Dr.  Johnson  ;  and  was  received  in  a  very  courteous  manner, — 
See  "  Gentleman's  Mag^ine."     June  1791. 

I  found  among  Dr.  Johnson's  papers,  the  following  letter  to  him,  from  the  cele- 
brated Mrs.  Bellamy : 

"  TO  DR.  JOHNSON. 
«   SIR, 

"  The  flattering  remembrance  of  the  partiaUty  you  honoured  me  with,  some 
years  ago,  as  well  as  the  humanity  you  are  known  to  possess,  has  encouraged  me 
to  solicit  your  patronage  at  my  Benefit. 

"  By  a  long  Chancery  suit,  and  a  complicated  train  of  unfortunate  events,  I  am 
reduced  to  the  greatest  distress ;  which  obliges  me,  once  more,  to  request  the  in- 
dulgence of  the  pubhck. 

"  Give  me  leave  to  soUcit  the  honour  of  your  company,  and  to  assure  you,  if 
you  grant  my  request,  the  gratification  I  shall  feel,  from  being  patronized  by  Dr. 
Johnson,  will  be  infinitely  superiour  to  any  advantage  that  may  arise  from  the  Ben- 
efit ;  as  I  am,  with  the  profoundest  respect.  Sir, 

"  Your  most  obedient,  humble  servant, 

"  No.  10,  Duke-street,  St.  James's,  "  G.  A.  BELLAMy." 

May  11,  1783. 

I  am  happy  In  recording  these  particulars,  which  prove  that  my  illustrious  friend 
lived  to  think  much  more  favourably  of  Players  than  he  appears  to  have  done  in 
fhe  early  part  of  his  life. 


342  THE    LIFE   OP 

1783.       "  My  two  last  years  have  past  under  the  pressure  of 
2J^  successive  diseases.     I   have  lately  had  the  gout  with 
74.    some  severity.     But  1  wonderfully  escaped  the  opera- 
tion  which   I   mentioned,  and  am  upon  the  whole  re- 
stored to  health  beyond  my  own  expectation. 

"  As  we  daily  see  our  friends  die  round  us,  we  that 
are  left  must  cling  closer,  and,  if  we  can  do  nothing 
more,  at  least  pray  for  one  another  ;  and  remember, 
that  as  others  die  we  must  die  too,  and  prepare  our- 
selves diligently  for  the  last  great  trial.  1  am,  Madam, 
"  Yours  affectionately, 

"  Sam.  Johnson."] 
*'  Bolt-court^  Fleet-street^  Nov.  10,  1783. 

A  pleasing  instance  of  the  generous  attention  of  one 
of  his  friends  has  been  discovered  by  the  publication  of 
Mrs.  Thrale's  collection  of  Letters.  In  a  letter  to  one 
of  the  Miss  Thrales,'  he  writes,  "  A  friend,  whose 
name  I  will  tell  when  your  mamma  has  tried  to  guess 
it,  sent  to  my  physician  to  enquire  whether  this  long 
train  of  illness  had  brought  me  into  difficulties  for  want 
of  money,  with  an  invitation  to  send  to  him  for  what 
occasion  required.  I  shall  write  this  night  to  thank 
him,  having  no  need  to  borrow."  And  afterwards,  in 
a  letter  to  Mrs.  Thrale,  "  Since  you  cannot  guess,  I 
will  tell  you,  that  the  generous  man  was  Gerard  Ham- 
ilton. I  returned  him  a  very  thankful  and  respectful 
letter."* 

I  applied  to  Mr.  Hamilton,  by  a  common  friend, 
and  he  has  been  so  obliging  as  to  let  me  have  Johnson's 
letter  to  him  upon  this  occasion,  to  adorn  my  collection. 

"  TO   THE    RIGHT    HONOURABLE   WILLIAM    GERARD 
HAMILTON. 

"  DEAR  SIR, 

"  Your  kind  enquiries  after  my  affairs,  and  your 
generous  offers,  have  been  communicated  to  me  by 
Dr.  Brocklesby.     I  return  thanks  with  great  sincerity, 

'  Vol.  IL  p.  328,  3  IbiA  p.  342. 


DR.   JOHNSON.  343 

having  lived  long  enough  to  know  what  gratitude  is  1783. 
due   to  such   friendship  ;  and  entreat  that  my  refusal  ^^ 
may  not  be  imputed  to  suUenness  or  pride.      I  am,  in-   74.  * 
deed,  in   no  want.     Sickness  is,  by  the  generosity  of 
my  physicians,  of  little  expense  to  me.     But  if  any 
unexpected  exigence  should   press  me,  you  shall  see, 
dear  Sir,  how  cheerfully  1  can  be  obliged  to  so  much 
liberality. 

"  I  am,  Sir, 

"  Your  most  obedient, 

"  And  most  humble  servant, 
*'  November  19,  1783.  "  Sam.  Johnson." 

I  find  in  this,  as  in  former  years,  notices  of  his  kind 
attention  to  Mrs.  Gardiner,  who,  though  in  the  hum- 
ble station  of  a  tallow-chandler  upon  Snow-hill,  was  a 
woman  of  excellent  good  sense,  pious,  and  charitable.' 
She  told  me,  she  had  been  introduced  to  him  by  Mrs. 
Masters,  the  poetess,  whose  volumes  he  revised,  and,  it 
is  said,  illuminated  here  and  there  with  a  ray  of  his  own 
genius.  Mrs.  Gardiner  was  very  zealous  for  the  sup- 
port of  the  Ladies'  charity-school,  in  the  parish  of  St. 
Sepulchre.  It  is  confined  to  females  ;  and,  I  am  told, 
it  afforded  a  hint  for  the  story  oi  Betty  Broom  in  "  The 
Idler."  Johnson  this  year,  I  find,  obtained  for  it  a 
sermon  from  the  late  Bishop  of  St.  Asaph,  Dr.  Shipley, 
whom  he,  in  one  of  his  letters  to  Mrs.  Thrale,  charac- 
terises as  "  knowing  and  conversible  ;"  and  whom  all 
who  knew  his  Lordship,  even  those  who  differed  from 
him  in  politicks,  remember  with  much  respect. 

The  Earl  of  Carlisle  having  written  a  tragedy,  en- 
titled "  The  Father's  Revenge,"  some  of  his  Lord- 
ship's friends  applied  to  Mrs.  Chapone,  to  prevail  on 
Dr.  Johnson  to  read  and  give  his  opinion  of  it,  which 
he  accordingly  did,  in  a  letter  to  that  lady.  Sir  Joshua 
Reynolds  having  informed  me  that  this  letter  was  in 
Lord  Carlisle's  possession,  though  I  was  not  fortunate 
enough  to  have  the  honour  of  being  known  to  his 

'  [In  his  Will  Dr.  Johnson  left  her  a  book  "  at  her  election,  to  keep  as  a  token  of 
remembrance."     M.] 
[This  excellent  woman  died  September  13, 1789,  aged  74.    A.  C-] 


344  THE    LIFE    OF 

1783.  Lordship,  trusting  to  the  general  courtesy  of  hterature, 
^J^  I  wrote  to  him,  requesting  the  favour  of  a  copy  of  it, 
74.  *  and  to  be  permitted  to  insert  it  in  my  hfe  of  Dr.  John- 
son. His  Lordship  was  so  good  as  to  comply  with  my 
request,  and  has  thus  enabled  me  to  enrich  my  work 
with  a  very  fine  piece  of  writing,  which  displays  both 
the  critical  skill  and  politeness  of  my  illustrious  friend  ; 
and  perhaps  the  curiosity  which  it  will  excite,  may 
induce  the  noble  and  elegant  Authour  to  gratify  the 
world  by  the  publication*  of  a  performance,  of  which 
Dr.  Johnson  has  spoken  in  such  terms. 

"  TO  MRS.  CHAPOXE. 
"  MADAM, 

"  By  sending  the  tragedy  to  me  a  second  time,^  I 
think  that  a  very  honourable  distinction  has  been  shewn 
me,  and  1  did  not  delay  the  perusal,  of  which  1  am  now 
to  tell  the  effect. 

"  The  construction  of  the  play  is  not  completely  reg- 
ular ;  the  stage  is  too  often  vacant,  and  the  scenes  are 
not  sufficiently  connected.  This,  however,  would  be 
called  by  Dryden  only  a  mechanical  defect  ;  which 
takes  away  little  from  the  power  of  the  poem,  and 
which  is  seen  rather  than  felt. 

"  A  rigid  examiner  of  the  diction  might,  perhaps, 
wish  some  words  changed,  and  some  lines  more  vigo- 
rously terminated.  But  from  such  petty  imperfections 
what  writer  was  ever  free  ? 

"  The  general  form  and  force  of  the  dialogue  is  of 
more  importance.  It  seems  to  want  that  quickness  of 
reciprocation  which  characterises  the  English  drama, 
and  is  not  always  sufficiently  fervid  or  animated. 

"  Of  the  sentiments,  1  remember  not  one  that  I  wish- 
ed omitted.  In  the  imagery  1  cannot  forbear  to  dis- 
tinguish the  comparison  of  joy  succeeding  grief  to  light 
rushing  on  the  eye  accustomed  to  darkness.     It  seems 

*  A  few  copies  only  of  this  tragedy  have  been  printed,  and  given  to  the  authour 's 
friends. 

^  Dr.  Johnson  having  been  very  ill  when  the  tragedy  was  first  sent  to  him,  had 
declined  the  consideration  of  it. 


DR.   JOHNSON.  34^ 

to  have  all  that  can  be  desired  to  make  it  please.     It  is  '783. 
new,  just,  and  delightful. "^  ^xsx. 

"  With  the  characters,  either  as  conceived  or  preserv-  74.  * 
ed,  I  have  no  fault  to  find  ;  but  was  much  inclined  to 
congratulate  a  writer,  who,  in  defiance  of  prejudice  and 
fashion,  made  the  Archbishop  a  good  man,  and  scorned 
all  thoughtless  applause,  which  a  vicious  churchman 
would  have  brought  him. 

"  The  catastrophe  is  affecting.  The  Father  and 
Daughter  both  culpable,  both  wretched,  and  both  pen- 
itent, divide  between  them  our  pity  and  our  sorrow. 

"  Thus,  Madam,  1  have  performed  what  I  did  not 
willingly  undertake,  and  could  not  decently  refuse. 
The  noble  writer  will  be  pleased  to  remember  that  sin- 
cere criticism  ought  to  raise  no  resentment,  because 
judgement  is  not  under  the  control  of  will ;  but  invol- 
untary criticism,  as  it  has  still  less  of  choice,  ought  to 
be  more  remote  from  possibility  of  offence. 
"  I  am,  &c. 
«  Nov.  28,  1783.  "  SaxM.  Johnson.'' 

I  consulted  him  on  two  questions  of  a  very  different 
nature  :  one,  whether  the  unconstitutional  influence 
exercised  by  the  Peers  of  Scotland  in  the  election  of 
the  representatives  of  the  Commons,  by  means  of  ficti- 
tious qualifications,  ought  not  to  be  resisted  ; — the  other. 
What  in  propriety  and  humanity,  should  be  done  with 
old  horses  unable  to  labour.  I  gave  him  some  account 
of  my  life  at  Auchinleck  ;  and  expressed  my  satisfac- 
tion that  the  gentlemen  of  the  county  had,  at  two  pub- 
lick  meetings,  elected  me  their  Presses,  or  Chairman. 

"  TO  JAMES  BOSWELL,  ESQ. 
"  DEAR  SIR, 

"  Like  all  other  men  who  have  great  friends,  you 
begin  to  feel  the  pangs  of  neglected  merit ;  and  all  the 

*  "  I  could  have  bom  my  woes  ;  that  stranger  joy 
"  Wounds  while  it  smiles  : — The  long-imprison'd  wretch, 
"  Emerging  from  the  night  of  his  damp  cell, 
"  Shrinks  from  the  sun's  bright  beams  ;  and  that  which  flings 
"  Gladness  o'er  all,  to  him  is  agony." 

VOL.  III.  44 


3i6  THE    LIFE    OF 

1783.  comfort  that  1  can  give  you  is,  by  telling  you  that  you 
]JJ^  have  probably  more  pangs  to  feel,  and  more  neglect  to 
74.  suffer.  You  have,  indeed,  begun  to  complain  too  soon  ; 
and  1  hope  I  am  the  only  confidant  of  your  discontent. 
Your  friends  have  not  yet  had  leisure  to  gratify  per- 
sonal kindness  ;  they  have  hitherto  been  busy  in 
strengthening  their  ministerial  interest.  If  a  vacancy 
happens  in  Scotland,  give  them  early  intelligence  :  and 
as  you  can  serve  Government  as  povi'erfuUy  as  any  of 
your  probable  competitors,  you  may  make  in  some  sort 
a  warrantable  claim. 

"  Of  the  exaltations  and  depressions  of  your  mind 
you  delight  to  talk,  and  1  hate  to  hear.  Drive  all  such 
fancies  from  you. 

"  On  the  day  when  I  received  your  letter,  I  think,  the 
foregoing  page  was  written  ;  to  which  one  disease  or 
another  has  hindered  me  from  making  any  additions. 
I  am  now  a  little  better.  But  sickness  and  solitude 
press  me  very  heavily.  1  could  bear  sickness  better,  if 
I  were  relieved  from  solitude. 

"  The  present  dreadful  confusion  of  the  publick 
ought  to  make  you  wrap  yourself  up  in  your  hereditary 
possessions,  which,  though  less  than  you  may  wish,  are 
more  than  you  can  want ;  and  in  an  hour  of  religious  re- 
tirement return  thanks  to  God,  who  has  exempted  you 
from  any  strong  temptation  to  faction,  treachery,  plun- 
der, and  disloyalty. 

"  As  your  neighbours  distinguish  you  by  such  hon- 
ours as  they  can  bestow,  content  yourself  with  your 
station,  without  neglecting  your  profession.  Your  es- 
tate and  the  Courts  will  find  you  full  employment,  and 
your  mind  well  occupied  will  be  quiet. 

"  The  usurpation  of  the  nobility,  for  they  apparently 
usurp  all  the  influence  they  gain  by  fraud  and  misrep- 
resentation, I  think  it  certainly  lawful,  perhaps  your 
duty,  to  resist.  What  is  not  their  own,  they  have  only 
by  robbery. 

"  Your  question  about  the  horses  gives  me  more  per- 
plexity, I  know  not  well  what  advice  to  give  you.  I 
can  only  recommend  a  rule  which  you  do  not  want ; — 
give  as  little  pain  as  you  can.     I  suppose  that  we  have 


DR.    JOHNSON.  347 

a  right  to  their  service  while  their  strength  lasts  ;  what  1783. 
we  can  do  with   them  afterwards,   I  cannot  so  easily  ^T^ 
determine.     But  let  us  consider.    Nobody  denies,  that    74. 
man  has  a  right  first  to  milk   the    cow,  and  to  shear 
the  sheep,  and  then   to  kill  them  for  his  table.     May 
he  not,  by  parity  of  reason,  first  work  a  horse,  and  then 
kill  him.  the  easiest  way,  that  he  may  have  the  means 
of  another  horse,  or  food  for  cows  and  sheep  ?     Man  is 
influenced  in   both   cases  by  different  motives  of  self- 
interest.       He  that  rejects  the  one  must  reject  the 
other. 

"  I  am,  &c. 
"  London,  Dec.  24,  1783.  "  Sam.  Johnson." 

"  A  happy  and  pious  Christmas  ;  and  many  happv 
yeai-s  to  you,  your  lady,  and  children." 

The  late  ingenious  Mr.  Mickle,  some  time  before  his 
death,  wrote  me  a  letter  concerning  Dr.  Johnson,  in 
which  he  mentions,  "  I  was  upwards  of  twelve  years 
acquainted  with  him,  was  frequently  in  his  company, 
always  talked  with  ease  to  him,  and  can  truly  say,  that 
I  never  received  from  him  one  rough  word." 

In  this  letter  he  relates  his  having,  while  engaged  in 
translating  the  Lusiad,  had  a  dispute  of  considerable 
length  with  Johnson,  who,  as  usual  declaimed  upon 
the  misery  and  corruption  of  a  sea  life,  and  used  this 
expression  : — "  It  had  been  happy  for  the  world,  Sir, 
if  your  hero  Gama,  Prince  Henry  of  Portugal,  and 
Columbus,  had  never  been  born,  or  that  their  schemes 
had  never  gone  farther  than  their  own  imaginations." — 
"  This  sentiment,  (says  Mr.  Mickle,)  which  is  to  be 
found  in  his  '  Introduction  to  the  World  displayed,'  I, 
in  my  Dissertation  prefixed  to  the  Lusiad,  have  con- 
troverted ;  and  though  authours  are  said  to  be  bad 
judges  of  their  own  works,  I  am  not  ashamed  to  own 
to  a  friend,  that  that  dissertation  is  my  favourite  above 
all  that  I  ever  attempted  in  prose.  Next  year,  when 
the  Lusiad  was  published,  1  waited  on  Dr.  Johnson, 
who  addressed  me  with  one  of  his  good-humoured 
smiles  : — '  Well,  you   have  remembered  our  dispute 


348  THE    LIFE    OF 

1783.  about  Prince   Henry,  and  have  cited   me  too.     You 

^JJ^  have  done  your  part  very  well  indeed  :  you  have  made 

74.   the  best  of'  your  argument  ;  but  1  am  not  convinced 

*  yet.' 

"  Before  publishing  the  Lusiad,  I  sent  Mr.  Hoole  a 
proof  of  that  part  of  the  introduction,  in  which  1  make 
mention  of  Dr.  Johnson,  yourself,  and  other  well-wish- 
ers to  the  work,  begging  it  might  be  shewn  to  Dr. 
Johnson.  This  was  accordingly  done  ;  and  in  place 
of  the  simple  mention  of  him  which  1  had  made,  he 
dictated  to  Mr.  Hoole  the  sentence  as  it  now  stands. 

"  Dr.  Johnson  told  me  in  1772,  that,  about  twenty 
years  before  that  time,  he  himself  had  a  design  to  trans- 
late the  Lusiad,  of  the  merit  of  which  he  spoke  highly, 
but  had  been  prevented  by  a  number  of  other  engage- 
ments." 

Mr.  Mickle  reminds  me  in  this  letter,  of  a  conver- 
sation at  dinner  one  day  at  Mr.  Hoole's  with  Dr. 
Johnson,  when  Mr.  Nicol  the  king's  Bookseller,  and 
I,  attempted  to  controvert  the  maxmi,  "  better  that 
ten  guilty  should  escape,  than  one  innocent  person 
sutler  ;"  and  were  answered  by  Dr.  Johnson  with  great 
power  of  reasoning  and  eloquence.  I  am  very  sorry 
that  1  have  no  record  of  that  day  :  but  I  well  recollect 
my  illustrious  friend's  having  ably  shewn  that  unless 
civil  institutions  ensure  protection  to  the  innocent,  all 
the  confidence  which  mankind  should  have  in  them 
would  be  lost. 

1  shall  here  mention  what,  in  strict  chronological 
arrangement,  should  have  appeared  in  my  account  of 
last  year  ;  but  may  more  properly  be  introduced  here, 
the  controversy  havin^'  not  been  closed  till  this.  The 
Reverend  Mr.  Shaw,  a  native  of  one  of  the  Hebrides, 
having  entertained  doubts  of  the  authenticity  of  the 
poems  ascribed  to  Ossian,  divested  himself  of  national 
bigotry  ;  and  having  travelled  in  the  Highlands  and 
Islands  of  Scotland,  and  also  in  Ireland,  in  order  to 
furnish  himself  with  materials  for  a  Gaelick  Diction- 
ary, which  he  afterwards  compiled,  was  so  fully  satis- 
fied that  Dr.  Johnson  was  in  the  right  upon  the 
question,  that  he  candidly  published  a  pamphlet,  stat- 


DR.   JOHNSON.  349 

jng  his  conviction,  and  the  proofs  and  reasons  on  which  '783. 
it  was  founded.     A  person  at  Edinburgh,  of  the  name  ^^^ 
of  Clark,  answered  this  pamphlet  with  much  zeal,  and    74.* 
much  abuse  of  its  authour.     Johnson  took  Mr.  Shaw 
under  his  protection,  and  gave  him  his  assistance  in 
writing  a  reply,  which   has  been  admired  by  the  best 
judges,  and  by  many  been  considered  as  conclusive. 
A  few  paragraphs,   which  sufficiently  mark  their  great 
Authour,  shall  be  selected. 

"  My  assertions  are,  for  the  most  part,  purely  nega- 
tive :  1  deny  the  existence  of  Fingal,  because  in  a  long 
and  curious  peregrination  through  the  Gaelick  regions 
I  have  never  been  able  to  find  it.  What  1  could  not 
see  myself  1  suspect  to  be  equally  invisible  to  others  ; 
and  1  suspect  with  the  more  reason,  as  among  all  those 
who  have  seen  it  no  man  can  shew  it. 

"  Mr.  Clark  compares  the  obstinacy  of  those  who 
disbelieve  the  genuineness  of  Ossian  to  a  blind  man, 
who  should  dispute  the  reality  of  colours,  and  deny 
that  the  British  troops  are  clothed  in  red.  The  blind 
man's  doubt  would  be  rational,  if  he  did  not  know  by 
experience  that  others  have  a  power  which  he  himself 
wants  :  but  what  perspicacity  has  Mr.  Clark  which 
Nature  has  withheld  from  me  or  the  rest  of  mankind  I 

"  The  true  stale  of  the  parallel  must  be  this.  Sup- 
pose a  man,  with  eyes  like  his  neighbours,  was  told  by 
a  boasting  corporal,  that  the  troops,  indeed,  wore  red 
clothes  tor  their  ordinary  dress,  but  that  every  soldier 
had  likewise  a  suit  of  black  velvet,  which  he  put  on 
when  the  King  reviews  them.  This  he  thinks  strange, 
and  desires  to  see  the  fine  clothes,  but  finds  nobody  in 
forty  thousand  men  that  can  produce  either  coat  or 
waistcoat.  One,  indeed,  has  left  them  in  his  chest  at 
Port  Mahon  ;  another  has  always  heard  that  he  ought 
to  have  velvet  clothes  somewhere  ;  and  a  third  has 
heard  somebody  say,  that  soldiers  ought  to  wear  velvet. 
Can  the  enquirer  be  blamed  if  he  goes  away  believing 
that  a  soldier's  red  coat  is  all  that  he  has  ? 

*'  But  the  most  obdurate  incredulity  may  be  shamed 
or  silenced  by  facts.     To  overpower  contradictions,  let 


:350  THE    LIFE    OF 

1783.  the  soldier  shew  his  velvet  coat,  and  the  Fingalist  the 

^^  original  of  Ossian. 
74.        "  The  difference  between   us  and  the  blind  man  is 
this :  the  blind  man  is  unconvinced,  because  he  cannot 
see ;  and  we,  because,  though  we  can  see,  we  find  that 
nothing  can  be  shown." 

Notwithstanding  the  complication  of  disorders  under 
which  Johnson  now  laboured,  he  did  not  resign  himself 
to  despondency  and  discontent,  but  with  wisdom  and 
spirit  endeavoured  to  console  and  amuse  his  mind  with 
as  many  innocent  enjoyments  as  he  could  procure. 
Sir  John  Hawkins  has  mentioned  the  cordiality  with 
which  he  insisted  that  such  of  the  members  of  the  old 
club  in  Ivy-lane  as  survived,  should  meet  again  and 
dine  together,  which  they  did,  twice  at  a  tavern,  and 
once  at  his  house  :  and  in  order  to  ensure  himself  so- 
ciety in  the  evening  for  three  days  in  the  week,  he 
instituted  a  club  at  the  Essex-head,  in  Essex-street, 
then  kept  by  Samuel  Greaves,  an  old  servant  of  Mr. 
Thrale's. 

"  to  sir  joshua  reynolds. 

"dear  sir, 

"  It  is  inconvenient  to  me  to  come  out  ;  I  should 
else  have  waited  on  you  with  an  account  of  a  little 
evening  Club  which  we  are  establishing  in  Essex- 
street,  in  the  Strand,  and  of  which  you  ere  desired  to 
be  one.  It  will  be  held  at  the  Essex-Head,  now  kept 
by  an  old  servant  of  Thrale's.  The  company  is  nu- 
merous, and,  as  you  will  see  by  the  list,  miscellane- 
ous. The  terms  are  lax,  and  the  expenses  light.  Mr. 
Barry  was  adopted  by  Dr.  Brocklesby,  who  joined  with 
me  in  forming  the  plan.  We  meet  thrice  a  week,  and 
he  who  misses  forfeits  two-pence. 

"  If  you  are  willing  to  become  a  member,  draw  a 
line  under  your  name.  Return  the  list.  We  meet  for 
the  first  time  on  Monday  at  eight. 

"  I  am,  &c. 
''Dec.  4,  1783.  "  Sam.  Johnson." 


DR.   JOHNSON.  361 

It  did  not  suit  Sir  Joshua  to  be  one  of  this  Club.  1783. 
"But  when  1  mention  only  Mr.  Daines  Harrington,  Dr.  J^ 
Brocklesby,    Mr.    Murphy,    Mr.   John  Nichols,    Mr.   74.  ' 
Cooke,  Mr.  Joddrel,  Mr.   Paradise,  Dr.  Horsley,  Mr. 
Windham,^   1  shall  sufficiently,  obviate  the  misrepre- 
sentation of  it  by  Sir  John  Havvkms,  as  if  it  had  been 
a  low  ale-house  association,  by  which  Johnson  was  de- 
graded.    Johnson  himself,  like  his  namesake  Old  Ben, 
composed  the  Rules  of  his  Club.^ 

In  the   end  of  this  year  he  was  seized  with  a  spas- 
modick  asthma  of  such  violence,  that  he  vt^as  confined 

^  I  was  in  Scotland  when  this  Club  was  founded,  and  during  all  the  winter. 
Johnson,  however,  declared  I  should  be  a  member,  and  invented  a  word  upon  the 
occasion  :  "  Boswell,  (said  he)  is  a  very  cluhahh  man."  When  I  came  to  town,  I 
was  proposed  by  Mr.  Barrington,  and  chosen.  I  believe  there  are  few  societies 
where  there  is  better  conversation  or  more  decorum.  Several  of  us  resolved  to 
continue  it  after  our  great  founder  was  removed  by  death.  Other  members  were 
added ;  and  now,  above  eight  years  since  that  loss,  we  go  on  happily. 

■  Rules. 

"  To-day  deep  thoughts  with  me  resolve  to  drench 

"  In  mirth,  which  after  no  repenting  draws." — Milton. 

"  The  Club  shall  consist  of  four-and-twenty. 

"  The  meetings  shall  be  on  the  Monday,  Thursday,  and  Saturday  of  every  week ; 
but  in  the  week  before  Easter  there  shall  be  no  meeting. 

"  Every  member  is  at  liberty  to  introduce  a  friend  once  a  week,  but  not  oftener. 

"  Two  members  shall  oblige  themselves  to  attend  in  their  turn  every  night 
from  eight  to  ten,  or  to  procure  two  to  attend  in  their  room. 

"  Every  member  present  at  the  Club  shall  spend  at  least  sixpence  ;  and  every 
member  who  stays  away  shall  forfeit  three-pence 

"  The  master  of  the  house  shall  keep  an  account  of  the  absent  members  :  and 
deliver  to  the  President  of  the  night  a  list  of  the  forfeits  incurred. 

"  When  any  member  returns  after  absence,  he  shall  immediately  lay  down  his 
forfeits  ;  which  if  he  omits  to  do,  the  President  shall  require. 

"  There  shall  be  no  general  reckoning,  but  every  man  shall  adjust  his  own 
expences. 

"  The  night  of  indispensable  attendance  wll  come  to  every  member  once  a 
month.  Whoever  shall  for  three  months  together  omit  to  attend  himself,  or  by 
substitution,  nor  shall  make  any  apology'  in  the  fourth  month,  shall  be  considered 
as  having  abdicated  the  Club. 

"  When  a  vacancy  is  to  be  filled,  the  name  of  the  candidate,  and  of  the  mem- 
ber recommending  him,  shall  stand  in  the  Club-room  three  nights.  On  the  fourth 
he  may  be  chosen  by  ballot ;  six  members  at  least  being  present,  and  two-thirds  of 
the  ballot  being  in  his  favour  ;  or  the  majority,  should  the  numbers  not  be  divis- 
ible by  three. 

"  The  master  of  the  house  shall  give  notice,  six  days  before,  to  each  of  those 
members  whose  turn  of  necessary  attendance  is  come. 

"  The  notice  may  be  in  these  words  : — '■  Sir,  On  the of , 

wlU  be  your  turn  of  presiding  at  the  Essex-Head.  Your  company  is  therefore 
earnestly  requested.' 

"  One  penny  shall  be  left  by  each  member  for  the  waiter." 

Johnson's  definition  of  a  Club  in  this  sense,  in  his  Dictionary,  is,  "  An  assembly 
of  good  fellows,  meeting  under  certain  conditions." 


352  THE    LIFE    OF 

1783.  to  the  house  in  great  pain,  being  sometimes  obliged  to 
^j^sit  all  night  in  his  chair,  a  recumbent  posture  being  so 
74.  hurtful  to  his  respiration,  that  he  could  not  endure  ly- 
ing in  bed  ;  and  there  came  upon  him  at  the  same  time 
that  oppressive  and  fatal  disease,  a  dropsy.  It  was  a 
very  severe  winter,  which  probably  aggravated  his  com- 
plaints ;  and  the  solitude  in  which  Mr.  Levet  and  Mrs. 
Williams  had  left  him,  rendered  his  life  very  gloomy. 
Mrs.  Desmoulins,  who  still  lived,  was  herself  so  very  ill, 
that  she  could  contribute  very  little  to  his  relief.  He, 
however,  had  none  of  that  unsocial  shyness  which  we 
commonly  see  in  people  afflicted  with  sickness.  He 
did  not  hide  his  head  from  the  world,  in  solitary  ab- 
straction ;  he  did  not  deny  himself  to  the  visits  of  his 
friends  and  acquaintances  ;  but  at  all  times,  when  he 
was  not  overcome  by  sleep,  was  ready  for  conversation 
as  in  his  best  days. 

"  TO  MRS.  LUCY  PORTER,  IN  LICHFIELD. 
"  DEAR  MADAM, 

"  You  may  perhaps  think  me  negligent  that  I  have 
not  written  to  you  again  upon  the  loss  of  your  brother; 
but  condolences  and  consolations  are  such  common  and 
such  useless  things,  that  the  omission  of  them  is  no 
great  crime :  and  my  own  diseases  occupy  my  mind, 
and  engage  my  care.  My  nights  are  miserably  restless, 
and  my  days,  therefore,  are  heavy.  I  try,  however,  to 
hold  up  my  head  as  high  as  I  can. 

"  1  am  sorry  that  your  health  is  impaired  ;  perhaps 
the  spring  and  the  summer  may,  in  some  degree,  restore 
it ;  but  if  not,  we  must  submit  to  the  inconvenienoies 
of  time,  as  to  the  other  dispensations  of  Eternal  Good- 
ness. Pray  for  me,  and  write  to  me,  or  let  Mr.  Pear- 
son write  for  you. 

"  I  am,  &c. 
"  London,  Nov.  29,  1783.  "  Sam.  Johnson." 

And  now  I  am  arrived  at  the  last  year  of  the  life  of 
Samuel  Johnson,  a  year  in  which,  although  passed  in 
severe  indisposition,  he  nevertheless  gave  many  eviden- 


DR.   JOHNSON.  353 

ces  of  the  continuance  of  those  wonderous  powers  of '784. 
mind,   which  raised  him  so  high   in  the  intellectual^.'^ 
world.     His   conversation   and  his   letters  of  this  year   75.' 
were  in  no  respect  inferiour  to  those  of  former  years. 
The  following  is  a  remarkable  proof  of  his  being  alive 
to  the  most  minute  curiosities  of  literature. 

"  TO  MR.  DILLY,  BOOKSELLER,  IN  THE  POULTRY. 
"  SIR, 

"  There  is  in  the  world  a  set  of  books  which  used 
to  be  sold  by  the  booksellers  on  the  bridge,  and  which 
I  must  entreat  you  to  procure  me.  They  are  called, 
Burtoii's  Books, -^  the  title  of  one  is  Admirable  Curios- 
ities^ Rarities^  and  Wonders  in  England.  1  believe 
there  are  about  five  or  six  of  them  ;  they  seem  very 
proper  to  allure  backward  readers  ;  be  so  kind  as  to  get 
thein  for  me,  and  send  me  them  with  the  best  printed 
edition  of  '  Baxter's  Call  to  the  Unconverted.' 
"  1  am,  &c. 
^^  Jan.  6,  1784.  "Sam.  Johnson." 

"  TO  MR.  PERKINS. 
"  DEAR  SIR, 

"  I  WAS  very  sorry  not  to  see  you  when  you  were 
so  kind  as  to  call  on  me  ;  but  to  disappoint  friends,  and 
if  they  are  not  very  good-natured,  to  disoblige  them,  is 
one  of  the  evils  of  sickness.  If  you  will  please  to  let 
me  know  which  of  the  afternoons  in  this  week  1  shall 

'  [The  following  list  comprises  several  of  these  books  ;  but  probably  is  incom- 
plete : 

1.  Historical   Remarques  on  London  and  Westminster 1681 

2.  Wars  in  England,  Scotland,  and  Ireland 1681 

3.  Wonderful  Prodigies 1 681 

4.  English  Empire  in  America 1685 

5.  Surprizing  Miracles  of  Nature  and  Art 1 685 

7.  History  of  Scotland  and  Ireland 1685 

8.  Nine  Worthies  of  the  World 1687 

9.  The  English  Hero,  or  Sir  Francis  Drake 1687 

10.  Memorable  Accidents,  and  unheard-of  Transactions 1693 

1 1.  History  of  Oliver  Cromwell 1 698 

12.  Unparalleled  Varieties 1699 

M.] 

VOL.  III.  45 


35A  THE    LIFE    OF 

1784.  be  favoured  with  another  visit  by  you  and  Mrs.  Perkins, 
^^  and  the  young  people,  1  will  take  all  the  measures  that 
75.    1  can  to  be  pretty  well  at  that  time.     I  am,  dear  Sir, 
"  Your  most  humble  servant, 
"  Jan.  21,  1784.  "  Sam.  Johnson." 

His  attention  to  the  Essex-head  Club  appears  from 
the  following  letter  to  Mr.  Alderman  Clark,  a  gentle- 
man for  whom  he  deservedly  entertained  a  great  regard. 

"  TO  RICHARD  CLARK,  ESQ. 
"  DEAR  SIR, 

"  You  will  receive  a  requisition,  according  to  the 
rules  of  the  Club,  to  be  at  the  house  as  President  of  the 
night.  This  turn  comes  once  a  month,  and  the  mem- 
ber is  obliged  to  attend,  or  send  another  in  his  place. 
You  were  enrolled  in  the  Club  by  my  invitation,  and  I 
ought  to  introduce  you  ;  but  as  1  am  hindered  by  sick- 
ness, Mr.  Hoole  will  very  properly  supply  my  place  as 
introductor,  or  yours  as  President.  I  hope  in  milder 
weather  to  be  a  very  constant  attendant. 
"  I  am,  Sir,  &c. 
"  Jan.  27,  1784.  "  Sam.  Johnson." 

"  You  ought  to  be  informed  that  the  forfeits  began 
with  the  year,  and  that  every  night  of  non-attendaace 
incurs  the  mulct  of  three-pence,  that  is,  nine-pence  a 
week." 

On  the  8th  of  January  I  wrote  to  him,  anxiously  en- 
quiring as  to  his  health,  and  enclosing  my  "  Letter  to 
the  People  of  Scotland,  on  the  present  state  of  the  na- 
tion."— "  1  trust,  (said  1,)  that  you  will  be  liberal  enough 
to  make  allowance  for  my  differing  from  you  on  two 
points,  [the  Middlesex  Election,  and  the  American 
War,]  when  my  general  principles  of  government  are 
according  to  your  own  heart,  and  when,  at  a  crisis  of 
doubtful  event,  I  stand  forth  with  honest  zeal  as  an  an- 
cient and  faithful  Briton.  My  reason  for  introducing 
those  two  points  was,  that  as  my  opinions  with  regard 


DR.   JOHNSON.  355 

to  them  had  been  declared  at  the  periods  when  they  1784. 
were  least  favourable,  1  might  have  the  credit  of  a  man  ^^^^ 
who  is  not  a  worshipper  of  ministerial  power.^'  75. 

"  to  james  boswell,  esq. 

"dear  sir, 

"  1  HEAR  of  many  enquiries  which  your  kindness 
has  disposed  you  to  make  after  me.  1  have  long  in- 
tended you  a  long  letter,  which  perhaps  the  imagina- 
tion of  its  length  hindered  me  from  beginning.  1  will, 
therefore,  content  myself  with  a  shorter. 

"  Having  promoted  the  institution  of  a  new  Club  in 
the  neighbourhood,  at  the  house  of  an  old  servant  of 
Thrale's,  1  went  thither  to  meet  the  company,  and  was 
seized  with  a  spasmodick  asthma,  so  violent,  that  with 
difficulty  I  got  to  my  own  house,  in  which  I  have  been 
confined  eight  or  nine  weeks,  and  from  which  I  know 
not  when  1  shall  be  able  to  go  even  to  church.  The 
asthma,  however,  is  not  the  worst.  A  dropsy  gains 
ground  upon  me  ;  my  legs  and  thighs  are  very  much 
swollen  with  water,  which  1  should  be  content  if  I 
could  keep  there,  but  1  am  afraid  that  it  will  soon  be 
higher.  My  nights  are  very  sleepless  and  very  tedious. 
And  yet  1  am  extremely  afraid  of  dying. 

"  My  physicians  try  to  make  me  hope,  that  much  of 
my  malady  is  the  effect  of  cold,  and  that  some  degree 
at  least  of  recovery  is  to  be  expected  from  vernal 
breezes  and  summer  suns.  If  my  life  is  prolonged  to 
autumn,  1  should  be  glad  to  try  a  warmer  climate  ; 
though  how  to  travel  with  a  diseased  body,  without  a 
companion  to  conduct  me,  and  with  very  little  money, 
I  do  not  well  see.  Ramsay  has  recovered  his  limbs  in 
Italy  ;  and  Fielding  was  sent  to  Lisbon,  where,  indeed, 
he  died  ;  but  he  was,  1  believe,  past  hope  when  he 
went.     Think  for  me  what  1  can  do. 

"  1  received  your  pamphlet,  and  when  I  write  again 
may  perhaps  tell  you  some  opinion  about  it  ;  but  you 
will  forgive  a  man  struggling  with  disease  his  neglect 
of  disputes,  politicks,  and  pamphlets.  Let  me  have 
your  prayers.       My  compliments  to  your  lady,  and 


3d6  THE    LIFE    OF 

1784.  young  ones.     Ask  your  physicians  about  my  case  :  and 
^t^  desire  Sir  Alexander  Dick  to  write  me  his  opinion. 
75.  "  1  am,  dear  Sir,  &c. 

"  Feb.  11,  1784.  "  Sam.  Johnson." 

"  to  MRS.  LUCY  PORTER,  IN  LICHFIELD. 
"  MY   DEAREST  LOVE, 

"  I  HAVE  been  extremely  ill  of  an  asthma  and 
dropsy,  but  received  by  the  mercy  of  God,  sudden, 
and  unexpected  relief  last  Thursday,  by  the  discharge 
of  twenty  pints  of  water.  Whether  I  shall  continue 
free,  or  shall  fill  again,  cannot  be  told.     Pray  for  me. 

"  Death,  my  dear,  is  very  dreadful  ;  let  us  think 
nothing  worth  our  care  but  how  to  prepare  for  it  ; 
what  we  know  amiss  in  ourselves  let  us  make  haste  to 
amend,  and  put  our  trust  in  the  mercy  of  God,  and 
the  intercession  of  our  Saviour.  I  am,  dear  Madam, 
"  Your  most  humble  servant, 
"  Feb.  23,  1784.  "  Sam.  Johnson.'' 

"  TO  JAMES  BOSWELL,  ESQ. 
"  DEAR  SIR, 

"  1  HAVE  just  advanced  so  far  towards  recovery  as 
to  read  a  pamphlet  ;  and  you  may  reasonably  suppose 
that  the  first  pamphlet  which  1  read  was  yours.  1  am 
very  much  of  your  opinion,  and,  like  you,  feel  great 
indignation  at  the  indecency  with  which  the  King  is 
every  day  treated.  Your  paper  contains  very  consid- 
erable knowledge  of  history  and  of  the  constitution, 
very  properly  produced  and  applied.  It  will  certainly 
raise  your  character,  ^  though  perhaps  it  may  not  make 
you  a  Minister  of  State. 

'  I  sent  it  to  Mr.  Pitt,  with  a  letter,  in  which  I  thus  expressed  myself:  "  My 
principles  may  appear  to  you  too  monarchical :  but  I  know  and  am  persuaded,  they 
are  not  inconsistent  with  the  true  principles  of  liberty.  Be  this  as  it  may,  you. 
Sir,  are  now  the  Prime  Minister,  called  by  the  Sovereign  to  maintain  the  right  of 
the  Crown,  as  well  as  those  of  the  people,  against  a  violent  faction.  As  such,  you 
are  entitled  to  the  warmest  support  of  every  good  subject  in  every  department." 
He  answered,  "  I  am  extremely  obliged  to  you  for  the  sentiments  you  do  me  the 
honour  to  express,  and  have  observed  with  great  pleasure  the  xealous  and  able 
support  given  to  the  Cause  of  the  Publick  in  the  work  you  were  so  good  to 
transmit  to  me." 


DR.   JOHNSON.  357 

******  1784. 

"  I  desire  you  to  see  Mrs.  Stewart  once  again,  and  ^^ 
tell  her,  that  in  the  letter-case  was  a  letter  relating  to    75. ' 
me,  for  which  I  will  give  her,  if  she  is  willing  to  give 
it  me,  another  guinea.     The  letter  is  of  consequence 
only  to  me. 

"  I  am,  dear  Sir,  &c. 
"  London,  Feb.  27,  1784.  "  Sam.  Johnson.' 


3> 


In  consequence  of  Johnson's  request  that  1  should 
ask  our  physicians  about  his  case,  and  desire  Sir  Alex- 
ander Dick  to  send  his  opinion,  1  transmitted  him  a 
letter  from  that  very  amiable  Baronet,  then  in  his 
eighty-first  year,  with  his  faculties  as  entire  as  ever  : 
and  mentioned  his  expressions  to  me  in  the  note  ac- 
companying it, — "  With  my  most  affectionate  wishes 
for  Dr.  Johnson's  recovery,  in  which  his  friends,  his 
country,  and  all  mankind  have  so  deep  a  stake  ;"  and 
at  the  same  time  a  full  opinion  upon  his  case  by  Dr. 
Gillespie,  who,  like  Dr.  Cullen,  had  the  advantage  of 
having  passed  through  the  gradations  of  surgery  and 
pharmacy,  and  by  study  and  practice  had  attained  to 
such  skill,  that  my  father  settled  on  him  two  hundred 
pounds  a  year  for  five  years,  and  fifty  pounds  a  year 
during  his  life,  as  an  honorarium  to  secure  his  particu- 
lar attendance.  The  opinion  was  conveyed  in  a  letter 
to  me,  beginning,  "  1  am  sincerely  sorry  for  the  bad 
state  of  health  your  very  learned  and  illustrious  friend, 
Dr.  Johnson,  labours  under  at  present." 

"  TO  JAMES    BOSWELL,  ESQ. 
''  DEAR  SIR, 

"  Presently  after  I  had  sent  away  my  last  letter, 
1  received  your  kind  medical  packet.  1  am  very  much 
obliged  both  to  you  and  to  your  physicians  for  your 
kind  attention  to  my  disease.  Dr.  Gillespie  has  sent 
me  an  excellent  consilium  7nediciim,  all  solid  practical 
experimental  knowledge.  I  am  at  present  in  the  opin- 
ion of  my  physicians,  (Dr.  Heberden  and  Dr.  Brock- 
lesby,)  as  well  as  my  own,  going  on  very  hopefully.    I 


358  THE    LIFE    OF 

1784.  have    just  begun    to   take  vinegar  of  squills.      The 
Sat!  P^^^^^  hurt  my  stomach  so  much,  that  it  could  not  be 
75.    continued. 

"  Return  Sir  Alexander  Dick  my  sincere  thanks  for 
his  kind  letter;  and  bring  with  you  the  rhubarb'  which 
he  so  tenderly  offers  me. 

"  1  hope  dear  Mrs.  Boswell  is  now  quite  well,  and 
that  no  evil,  either  real  or  imaginary,  now  disturbs  you. 

"  1  am,  &c. 
"  London,  March  2,  1784.  "  Sam.  Johnson." 

I  also  applied  to  three  of  the  eminent  physicians  who 
had  chairs  in  our  celebrated  school  of  medicine  at  Ed- 
inburgh, Doctors  Cullen,  Hope,  and  Munro,  to  each 
of  whom  I  sent  the  following  letter  : 

"  DEAR  SIR, 

"  Dr.  Johnson  has  been  very  ill  for  some  time  ; 
and  in  a  letter  of  anxious  apprehension  he  writes  to 
me,  '  Ask  your  physicians  about  my  case.' 

"  This  you  see,  is  not  authority  for  a  regular  con- 
sultation :  but  I  have  no  doubt  of  your  readiness  to 
give  your  advice  to  a  man  so  eminent,  and  who,  in  his 
Life  of  Garth,  has  paid  your  profession  a  just  and  ele- 
gant compliment  :  "  I  believe  every  man  has  found  in 
physicians  great  liberality  and  dignity  of  sentiment, 
very  prompt  effusions  of  beneficence,  and  willingness 
to  exert  a  lucrative  art,  where  there  is  no  hope  of 
lucre." 

"  Dr.  Johnson  is  aged  seventy-four.  Last  summer 
he  had  a  stroke  of  the  palsy,  from  which  he  recovered 
almost  entirely.  He  had,  before  that,  been  troubled 
with  a  catarrhous  cough.  This  winter  he  was  seized 
with  a  spasmodick  asthma,  by  which  he  has  been  con- 
fined to  his  house  for  about  three  months.  Dr.  Brock- 
lesby  writes  to  me,  that  upon  the  least  admission  of 
cold,  there  is  such  a  constriction  upon  his  breast,  that 
he  cannot  lie  down  in  his  bed,  but  is  obliged  to  sit  up 

'  From  his  garden  at  Prestonfield,  where  he  cultivated  that  plant  with  such  suc- 
cess, that  he  was  presented  with  a  gold  medal  by  the  Society  of  London  for  the 
Encouragement  of  Arts,  Manufactures  and  Commerce. 


DR.    JOHNSON.  359 

all  night,  and  gets  rest  and  sometimes  sleep,  only  by  1784. 
means  of  laudanum  and  syrup  of  poppies;  and  that ^J^^ 
there  are  osdematous  tumours  in  his  legs  and  thighs.   75.  * 
Dr.  Brocklesby  trusts  a  good  deal  to  the  return  of  mild 
weather.     Dr.  Johnson  says,  that  a  dropsy  gains  ground 
upon   him  ;  and  he  seems  to  think  that  a  warmer  cli- 
mate would  do  him  good.     1   understand   he  is    now 
rather  better,  and  is  using  vinegar  of  squills.     1  am, 
with  great  esteem,  dear  Sir, 

"  Your  most  obedient  humble  servant, 
"  March  7,  1784.  "  James  Boswell." 

All  of  them  paid  the  most  polite  attention  to  my 
letter,  and  its  venerable  object.  Dr.  Cullen's  words 
concerning  him  were,  "  It  would  give  me  the  greatest 
pleasure  to  be  of  any  service  to  a  man  whom  the  pub- 
lick  properly  esteem,  and  whom  I  esteem  and  respect 
as  much  as  I  do  Dr.  Johnson."  Dr.  Hope's,  "Few 
people  have  a  better  claim  on  me  than  your  friend,  as 
hardly  a  day  passes  that  I  do  not  ask  his  opinion  about 
this  or  that  word."  Dr.  Munro's,  "  1  most  sincerely 
join  you  in  sympathising  with  that  very  worthy  and 
ingenious  character,  from  whom  his  country  has  deriv- 
ed much  instruction  and  entertainment." 

Dr.  Hope  corresponded  with  his  friend  Dr.  Blocklesby. 
Doctors  Cullen  and  Munro  wrote  their  opinions  and 
prescriptions  to  me,  which  I  afterwards  carried  with 
me  to  London,  and,  so  far  as  they  were  encouraging, 
communicated  to  Johnson.  The  liberality  on  one 
hand,  and  grateful  sense  of  it  on  the  other,  I  have 
great  satisfaction  in  recording. 

"  TO  JAMES  BOSWELL,  ESQ. 
"  DEAR  SIR, 

"  I  AM  too  much  pleased  with  the  attention  which 
you  and  your  dear  lady^  show  to  my  welfare,  not  to 
be  diligent  in  letting  you  know  the  progress  which  I 
make  towards  health.     The  dropsy,  by  God's  blessing, 

-  Who  had  written  him  a  very  kind  letter. 


360  THE    LIFE    OP 

1784.  has  now  run  almost  totally  away  bv  natural  evacuation  : 
"^^^  and  the  asthma,  if  not  irritated  by  cold,  gives  me  httle 
75,    trouble.     While  I  am   writing  this,   1    have   not  any 
sensation  of  debility  or  disease.     But  1  do  not  yet  ven- 
ture out,  having  been  confined  to  the  house  from  the 
thirteenth  of  December,  now  a  quarter  of  a  year. 

"  When  it  will  be  fit  for  me  to  travel  as  far  as 
Aui'hinleck,  I  am  not  able  to  guess  ;  but  such  a  letter 
as  Mrs.  Boswell's  might  draw  any  man,  not  wholly 
motionless,  a  great  way.  Pray  tell  the  dear  lady  how 
much  her  civility  and  kindness  have  touched  and  grat- 
ified me. 

"  Our  parliamentary  tumults  have  now  begun  to 
subside,  and  the  King's  authority  is  in  some  measure 
re-established.  Mr.  Pitt  will  have  great  power  ;  but 
you  must  remember,  that  what  he  has  to  give,  must, 
at  least  for  some  time,  be  given  to  those  who  gave,  and 
those  who  preserve,  his  power.  A  new  minister  can 
sacrifice  little  to  esteem  or  friendship  ;  he  must,  till  he 
is  settled,  think  only  of  extending  his  interest. 

yf         yp         w        ^         ^        ^ 

"If you  come  hither  through  Edinburgh,  send  for 
Mrs.  Stewart,  and  give  from  me  another  guinea  for  the 
letter  in  the  old  case,  to  which  1  shall  not  be  satisfied 
with  my  claim,  till  she  gives  it  me. 

"  Please  to  bring  with  you  Baxter's  Anacreon  ;  and 
if  you  procure  heads  of  Hector  Boece,  the  historian, 
and  Arthur  Johnston,  the  poet,  1  will  put  them  in  my 
room  ;  or  any  other  of  the  father's  of  Scottish  literature. 

"  1  wish  you  an  easy  and  happy  journey,  and  hope 
I  need  not  tell  you  that  you  will  be  welcome  to,  dear 
Sir, 

"  Your  most  affectionate  humble  servant, 
"  London,  March  18,  1784.  "  Sam.  Johnson." 

I  wrote  to  him,  March  28,  from  York,  informing  him 
that  I  had  a  high  gratification  in  the  triumph  of  mo- 
narchical principles  over  aristocratical  influence,  in  that 
great  countv,  in  an  address  to  the  King  ;  that  1  was 
thus  far  on  my  way  to  him,  but  that  news  of  the  disso- 
lution of  Parliament  having  arrived,  1  was  to  hasten 


DR.   JOHNSON.  261 

back  to  my  own  county,  where  I  had  carried  an  Address  1784. 
to  his  Majesty  by  a  great  majority,  and  had  some  in- j^J^ 
tention  of  being  a  candidate  to  represent  the  county  in  75.  * 
Parliament. 

"  TO  JAMES    BOSWELL,  ESQ. 
"  DEAR  SIR, 

"  You  could  do  nothing  so  proper  as  to  hasten 
back  when  you  found  the  Parliament  dissolved.  With 
the  influence  which  your  address  must  have  gained 
you,  it  may  reasonably  be  expected  that  your  presence 
will  be  of  importance,  and  your  activity  of  effect. 

"  Your  solicitude  for  me  gives  me  that  pleasure 
which  every  man  feels  from  the  kindness  of  such  a 
friend  ;  and  it  is  with  delight  1  relieve  it  by  telling,  that 
Dr.  Brockksby's  account  is  true,  and  that  I  am,  by 
the  blessing  of  God,  wonderfully  relieved. 

*'  You  are  entering  upon  a  transaction  which  re- 
quires much  prudence.  You  must  endeavour  to 
oppose  without  exasperating  ;  to  practise  temporary 
hostility,  without  producing  enemies  for  life.  This  is, 
perhaps,  hard  to  be  done  ;  yet  it  has  been  done  by 
many,  and  seems  most  likely  to  be  effected  by  oppos- 
ing merely  upon  general  principles,  without  descending 
to  personal  or  particular  censures  or  objections.  One 
thing  1  must  enjoin  you,  which  is  seldom  observed  in 
the  conduct  of  elections  ; — I  must  entreat  you  to  be 
scrupulous  in  the  use  of  strong  liquors.  One  night^s 
drunkenness  may  defeat  the  labours  of  forty  days  well 
employed.  Be  firm,  but  not  clamorous  ;  be  active, 
but  not  malicious  ;  and  you  may  form  such  an  interest, 
as  may  not  only  exalt  yourself,  but  dignify  your  family. 

"  We  are,  as  you  may  suppose,  all  busy  here.  Mr. 
Fox  resolutely  stands  for  W^estminster,  and  his  friends 
say  will  carry  the  election.  However  that  be,  he  will 
certainly  have  a  seat.  Mr.  Hoole  has  just  told  me, 
that  the  city  leans  towards  the  King. 

"  Let  me  hear  from  time  to  time,  how  you  are  em- 
ployed, and  what  progress  you  make. 

"  Make  dear  Mrs.  Boswell,  and  all  the  young  Bos- 

voL.  III.  A6 


362  THE    LIFE    OF 

1784.  wells,  the  sincere  compliments  of,  Sir,  your  affection- 
^J^  ate  humble  servant, 
75,. '    "  London,  March  30,  1784.  "  Sam.  Johxson." 

To  Mr.  Langton  he  wrote  with  that  cordiality  which 
was  suitable  to  the  long  friendship  which  had  subsisted 
between  him  and  that  gentleman. 

March  27.  "  Since  you  left  me,  I  have  continued 
in  my  own  opinion,  and  in  Dr.  Brocklesby's,  to  grow 
better  with  respect  to  all  my  formidable  and  dangerous 
distempers  ;  though  to  a  body  battered  and  shaken  as 
mine  has  lately  been,  it  is  to  be  feared  that  weak  at- 
tacks may  be  sometimes  mischievous.  I  have,  indeed, 
by  standing  carelessly  at  an  open  window,  got  a  very 
troublesome  cough,  which  it  has  been  necessary  to 
appease  by  opium,  in  larger  quantities  than  1  like  to 
take,  and  I  have  not  found  it  give  way  so  readily  as  I 
expected  ;  its  obstinacy,  however,  seems  at  last  dis- 
posed to  submit  to  the  remedy,  and  1  know  not  whether 
I  should  then  have  a  right  to  complain  of  any  morbid 
sensation.  My  asthma  is,  I  am  afraid,  constitutional 
'  and  incurable  ;  but  it  is  only  occasional,  and  unless  it 

be  excited  by  labour  or  by  cold,  gives  me  no  molesta- 
tion, nor  does  it  lay  very  close  siege  to  life  ;  for  Sir 
John  Floyer,  whom  the  physical  race  consider  as  au- 
thour  of  one  of  the  best  books  upon  it,  panted  on 
to  ninety,  as  was  supposed  ;  and  why  were  we  con- 
tent with  supposing  a  fact  so  interesting,  of  a  man  so 
conspicuous  I  because  he  corrupted,  at  perhaps  seventy 
or  eighty,  the  register,  that  he  might  pass  for  younger 
than  he  was.  He  was  not  much  less  than  eighty, 
when  to  a  man  of  rank  who  modestly  asked  his  age, 
he  answered,  '  Go  look  ;'  though  he  was  in  general  a 
man  of  civility  and  elegance. 

"  The  ladies,  I  find,  are  at  your  house  all  well, 
except  Miss  Langton,  who  will  probably  soon  recover 
her  health  by  light  suppers.  Let  her  eat  at  dinner  as 
she  will,  but  not  take  a  full  stomach  to  bed. — Pay  my 
sincere  respects  to  dear  Miss  Langton  in  Lincolnshire, 
let  her  know  that  I  mean  not  to  break  our  league  of 


DR.    JOHNSON.  363 

friendship,  and  that  I  have  a  set  of  Lives  for  her,  when  '784. 
I  have  the  means  of  sending  it."  Mt^ 

April  8.  "  1  am  still  disturbed  by  my  cough  ;  but  75. 
what  thanks  have  1  not  to  pay,  when  my  cough  is  the 
most  painful  sensation  that  1  feel  ?  and  from  that  1 
expect  hardly  to  be  released,  while  winter  continues  to 
gripe  us  with  so  much  pertinacity.  The  3'ear  has  now 
advanced  eighteen  days  beyond  the  equinox,  and  still 
there  is  very  little  remission  of  the  cold.  When  warm 
weather  comes,  which  surely  must  come  at  last,  I  hope 
it  will  help  both  me  and  your  young  lady. 

"  The  man  so  busy  about  addresses  is  neither  more 
nor  less  than  our  own  Boswell,  who  had  come  as  far  as 
York  towards  London,  but  turned  back  on  the  disso- 
lution, and  is  said  now  to  stand  for  some  place. 
Whether  to  wish  him  success,  his  best  friends  hesitate. 

"  Let  me  have  your  prayers  for  the  completion  of 
my  recovery  :  I  am  now  better  than  I  ever  expected 
to  have  been.  May  God  add  to  his  mercies  the  grace 
that  may  enable  me  to  use  them  according  to  his  will. 
My  compliments  to  all." 

April  13.  "I  had  this  evening  a  note  from  Lord 
Portmore,^  desiring  that  I  would  give  you  an  account 
of  my  health.  You  might  have  had  it  with  less  cir- 
cumduction. I  am,  by  God's  blessing,  I  believe  free 
from  all  morbid  sensations,  except  a  cough,  which  is 
only  troublesome.  But  1  am  still  weak,  and  can  have 
no  great  hope  of  strength  till  the  weather  shall  be 
softer.  The  summer,  if  it  be  kindly,  will,  I  hope, 
enable  me  to  support  the  winter.  God,  who  has  so 
wonderfully  restored  me,  can  preserve  me  in  all  seasons. 

"  Let  me  enquire  in  my  turn  after  the  state  of  your 
family,  great  and  little.  1  hope  Lady  Rothes  and  Miss 
Langton  are  both  well.  That  is  a  good  basis  of  content. 
Then  how  goes  George  on  with  his  studies  ?  How  does 
Miss  Mary  ?  And  how  does  my  own  Jenny  1  1  think  I 

^  To  which  Johnson  returned  this  answer  : 

"  TO  THE  RIGHT  HONOURABLE  EARL  OF  rORTMORE. 

"Dr.  Johnson  acknowledges  with  great  respect  the  honour  of  I.ord  Port' 
more's  notice.  He  is  better  than  he  was ;  and  will,  as  his  Lordship  directs,  write 
t'9  Mr.  Langton. 

"  Bolt-court,  Fleet-street,  Apr.  13, 1784." 


364  THE    LIFE    OF 

1784.  owe  Jenny  a  letter,   which  1  will  take  care  to  pay.     In 
^J^  the  mean  time  tell  her  that  1  acknowledge  the  debt. 
75.'      "  Be  pleased  to  make  my  compliments  to  the  ladies. 
If  Mrs.  Langton  comes  to  London,  she  will  favour  me 
with  a  visit,  for  1  am  not  well  enough  to  go  out." 

"  TO  OZIAS  HUMPHRY,*  ESQ. 
"SIR, 

"  Mr.  Hoole  has  told  me  with  what  benevolence 
you  listened  to  a  request  which  I  was  almost  afraid  to 
make,  of  leave  to  a  young  painter ^  to  attend  you  from 
time  to  time  in  your  painting-room,  to  see  your  opera- 
tions, and  receive  your  instructions. 

"  The  young  man  has  perhaps  good  parts,  but  has 
been  without  a  regular  education.  He  is  my  god-son, 
and  therefore  1  interest  myself  in  his  progress  and  suc- 
cess, and  shall  think  myself  much  favoured  if  1  receive 
from  you  a  permission  to  send  him. 

"  My  health  is,  by  God's  blessing,  much  restored, 
but  I  am  not  yet  allowed  by  my  physicians  to  go 
abroad ;  nor,  indeed,  do  1  think  myself  yet  able  to  en- 
dure the  weather.      1  am,  Sir, 

"  Your  most  humble  Servant, 
"  Aprils,  IZS^.  "  Sam.  Johnson." 

"  to  the  same. 
"  sir, 

"  The  bearer  is  my  god-son,  whom  I  take  the  lib- 
erty of  recommending  to  your  kindness  ;  which  1  hope 

''  The  eminent  painter,  representative  of  the  ancient  family  of  Homfrey  (now 
Humphry)  in  the  west  of  England  ;  who,  as  appears  from  their  arms  which  they 
have  invariably  used,  have  been,  (as  I  have  seen  authenticated  by  the  best  author- 
ity,) one  of  those  among  the  Knights  and  Esquires  of  honour  who  are  represented 
by  Holinshed  as  having  issued  from  the  Tower  of  1/Ondon  on  coursers  apparalled 
for  the  justes,  accompanied  by  ladies  of  honour,  leading  every  one  a  Knight,  with 
a  chain  of  gold,  passing  through  the  streets  of  London  into  Smithfield,  on  Sunday, 
at  three  o'clock  in  the  afternoon,  being  the  first  Sunday  after  Michaelmas,  in  the 
fourteenth  year  of  King  Richard  the  Second.  Tliis  family  once  enjoyed  large 
possessions,  but,  like  others,  have  lost  them  in  the  progress  of  ages.  Their  blood, 
however,  remains  to  them  well  ascertained  ;  and  they  may  hope  in  the  revolution 
of  events,  to  recover  that  rank  in  society  for  which,  in  modern  times,  fortune 
seems  to  be  an  indispensable  requisite. 

'  Son  of  Mr.  Samuel  Patterson,  eminent  for  his  knowledge  of  books. 


DR.    JOHNSON.  365 

he  will  deserve  by  his  respect  to  your  excellence,  and  »784. 
his  gratitude  for  your  favours.  JtaT 

"  1  am,  Sir,  75. ' 

"  Your  most  humble  servant, 
''April  10,  1784.  "  Sam.  Johnson." 

"  TO  THE  SAME. 
"  SIR, 

"  I  AM  very  much  obliged  by  your  civilities  to  my 
god-son,  but  must  beg  of  you  to  add  to  them  the  fa- 
vour of  permitting  him  to  see  you  paint,  that  he  may 
know  how  a  picture  is  begun,  advanced,  and  completed. 
"  if  he  may  attend  you  in  a  few  of  your  operations, 
I  hope  he  will  shew  that  the  benefit  has  been  properly 
conferred,  both  by  his  proficiency  and  his  gratitude. 
At  least  1  shall  consider  you  as  enlarging  your  kindness 
to,  Sir, 

"  Your  humble  servant, 
"  May  31,  1784.  "  Sam.  Johnson.' 


» 


"  TO  THE  REVEREND   DR.  TAYLOR,  ASHBOURNE, 
DERBYSHIRE. 
"  DEAR  SIR, 

"  V7hat  can  be  the  reason  that  T  hear  nothing 
from  you  \  I  hope  nothing  disables  you  from  writing. 
What  I  have  seen,  and  what  1  have  felt,  gives  me  reason 
to  fear  every  thing.  Do  not  omit  giving  me  the  com- 
fort of  knowing,  that  after  all  my  losses  1  have  yet  a 
friend  left. 

"  I  want  every  comfort.  My  life  is  very  solitary 
and  very  cheerless.  Though  it  has  pleased  God  won- 
derfully to  deliver  me  from  the  dropsy.  1  am  yet  very 
weak,  and  have  not  passed  the  door  since  the  13th  of 
December.  J  hope  for  some  help  from  warm  weather, 
which  will  surely  come  in  time. 

"  I  could  not  have  the  consent  of  the  phj^sicians  to 
go  to  church  yesterday  ;  1  therefore  received  the  holy 
sacrament  at  home,  in  the  room  where  1  communicated 
with  dear  Mrs.  Williams,  a  little  before  her  death.  O  ! 
my  friend,  the  approach  of  death  is  very  dreadful.  I 
am  afraid  to  think  on  that  which  1  know  I  cannot 


366  THE    LIFE    OF 

1784.  avoid.     It  is  vain   to   look  round  and   round  for  that 
2J^  help  which  cannot  be  had.     Yet  we  hope  and  hope, 
75.    and  fancy  that  he  who  has  Hved  to-day  may  Hve  to- 
morrow.     But  let  us  learn  to  derive  our  hope  only 
from  God. 

"  In  the  mean  time,  let  us  be  kind  to  one  another. 
I  have  no  friend  now  living  but  you*^  and  Mr.  Hector, 
that  was  the  friend  of  my  youth.  Do  not  neglect, 
dear  Sir, 

"  Yours  affectionately, 

"  Sam.  Johnson." 
"  London,  Easier- Mo?idai/y  April  12,  1784. 

[to  MRS.  LUCY  PORTER,  IN  LICHFIELD. 

"my  dear, 

"  I  WRITE  to  you  now,  to  tell  you  that  I  am  so 
far  recovered  that  on  the  21st  1  went  to  church,  to 
return  thanks,  after  a  confinement  of  more  than  four 
long  months. 

"  My  recovery  is  such  as  neither  myself  nor  the  phy- 
sicians at  all  expected,  and  it  is  such  as  that  very  few 
examples  have  been  known  of  the  like.  Join  with  me, 
my  dear  love,  in  returning  thanks  to  God. 

"  Dr.  Vyse  has  been  with  [me]  this  evening :  he 
tells  me  that  you  likewise  have  been  much  disordered, 
but  that  you  are  now  better.  I  hope  that  we  shall 
sometime  have  a  cheerful  interview.  In  the  mean 
time  let  us  pray  for  one  another. 

"  1  am,  Madam, 

"  Your  humble  servant, 
"  London,  April  26,  1784.  "  Sam.  Johnson."] 

What  follows  is  a  beautiful  specimen  of  his  gentle- 
ness and  complacency  to  a  young  lady  his  god-child, 
one  of  the  daughters  of  his  friend  Mr.  Langton,  then  I 
think  in  her  seventh  year.  He  took  the  trouble  to 
write  it  in  a  large  round  hand,  nearly  resembling  print- 
ed characters,  that  she  might  have  the  satisfaction   of 

'  [This  friend  of  Johnson's  voiith  survired  him  somewhat  more  than  three  years, 
having  died  Feb.  19,  1788.    M.] 


DR.    JOHNSON.  367 

reading  it  herself.  The  original  hes  before  me,  but  1784. 
shall  be  faithfully  restored  to  her ;  and  I  dare  say  will  J^ 
be  preserved  by  her  as  a  jewel,  as  long  as  she  lives.  75. 

"  to  miss  jane  langton,  in  rochester,  kent. 

"my  dearest  miss  jenny, 

"I  AM  sorry  that  your  pretty  letter  has  been  so 
long  without  being  answered  ;  but,  when  I  am  not 
pretty  well,  1  do  not  always  write  plain  enough  for 
young  ladies.  I  am  glad,  my  dear,  to  see  that  you 
write  so  well,  and  hope  that  you  mind  your  pen,  your 
book,  and  your  needle,  for  they  are  all  necessary.  Your 
books  will  give  you  knowledge,  and  make  you  respect- 
ed ;  and  your  needle  will  find  you  useful  employment 
when  you  do  not  care  to  read.  When  you  are  a  little 
older,  I  hope  you  will  be  very  diligent  in  learning  arith- 
metick;  and,  above  all,  that  through  your  whole  life 
you  will  carefully  say  your  prayers,  and  read  your  Bible. 
"  I  am,  my  dear, 

"  Your  most  humble  servant, 
''May  10,  1784.  "Sam.  Johnson.' 


w 


On  Wednesday,  May  5, 1  arrived  in  London,  and  next 
morning  had  the  pleasure  to  find  Dr.  Johnson  greatly 
recovered.  I  but  just  saw  him  ;  for  a  coach  was  \\2i\X- 
ing  to  carry  him  to  Islington,  to  the  house  of  his  friend 
the  Reverend  Mr.  Strahan,  where  he  went  sometimes 
for  the  benefit  of  good  air,  which,  notwithstanding  his 
having  formerly  laughed  at  the  general  opinion  upon 
the  subject,  he  now  acknowledged  was  conducive  to 
health. 

One  morning  afterwards,  vi^hen  I  found  him  alone,  he 
communicated  to  me,  with  solemn  earnestness,  a  very 
remarkable  circumstance  which  had  happened  in  the 
course  of  his  illness,  when  he  was  much  distressed  by 
the  dropsy.  He  had  shut  himself  up,  and  employed  a 
day  in  particular  exercises  of  religion, — fasting,  humili- 
ation, and  prayer.  On  a  sudden  he  obtained  extraor- 
dinary rehef,  for  which  he  looked  up  to  Heaven  with 
grateful  devotion.     He  made  no  direct  inference  from 


^6S  THE    LIFE    OP 

J784.  this  fact ;  but  from  his  manner  of  tellinj^  it,  I  could 
2Etj^j  perceive  that  it  appeared  to  him  as  something  more  than 
75.  an  incident  in  the  common  course  of  events.  For  my 
own  part,  1  have  no  difficulty  to  avow  that  cast  of  think- 
ing, which,  by  many  modern  pretenders  to  wisdom,  is 
called  superstitious.  But  here  1  think  even  men  of  dry 
rationahty  may  beheve,  that  there  was  an  intermediate 
interposition  of  divine  Providence,  and  that  "  the  fer- 
vent prayer  of  this  righteous  man"  availed.^ 

On  Sunday,  May  9,  I  found  Colonel  V^allancy,  the 
celebrated  Antiquary,  and  Engineer  of  Ireland,  with 
him.  On  Monday,  the  10th,  1  dined  with  him  at  Mr. 
Paradise's,  where  was  a  large  company  ;  Mr.  Bryant, 
Mr.  Joddrel,  Mr.  Hawkins  Browne,  &c.  On  Thurs- 
day, the  13th,  1  dined  with  him  at  Mr.  JoddreFs,  with 
another  large  company  ;  the  Bishop  of  Exeter,  Lord 
Monboddo,^  Mr.  Murphy,  &c. 

On  Saturday,  May  lo,  1  dined  with  him  at  Dr. 
Brocklesby's,  where  were  Colonel  Valiancy,  Mr.  Mur- 
phy, and  that  ever-cheerful  companion  Mr.  Uevaynes, 
apothecary  to  his  Majesty.  Of  these  days,  and  others 
on  which  1  saw  him,  I  have  no  memorials,  except  the 
general  recollection  of  his  being  able  and  animated  in 
conversation,  and  appearing  to  relish  society  as  much 

■  Upon  this  subject  there  is  a  very  fair  and  judicious  remark  in  the  Life  of  Dr. 
Abernethy,  in  the  first  edition  of  the  B'wgraphla  Britannka,  which  I  should  liave 
been  glad  to  see  in  his  Life  which  has  been  written  for  the  second  edition  of  that 
valuable  work.  "  To  deny  the  exercise  of  a  particular  providence  in  the  Deity's 
government  of  the  world,  is  certainly  impious,  yet  nothing  serves  the  cause  of  the 
scorner  more  than  an  incautious  forward  zeal  in  determining  the  particular  in- 
stances of  it."  . 

In  confirmation  of  my  sentiments,  I  am  also  happy  to  quote  that  sensible  and 
elegant  writer  Mr.  Melmoth,  in  Letter  VIII.  of  his  coUection,  published  under  the 
name  of  Fitzosbome.  "  We  may  safely  assert,  that  the  belief  of  a  particular  Provi- 
dence is  founded  upon  such  probable  reasons  as  may  well  justify  our  assent.  It  would 
scarce,  therefore,  be  wise  to  renounce  an  opinion  which  affords  so  firm  a  support 
to  the  soul,  in  those  seasons  wherein  she  stands  in  most  need  of  assistance,  merely 
because  it  is  not  possible,  in  questions  of  this  kind,  to  solve  every  difficulty  which 
attends  them." 

'  I  was  sorry  to  observe  Lord  Monboddo  avoid  any  communication  with  Dr. 
Johnson.  I  flattered  myself  that  I  had  made  them  very  good  friends,  (see  "  Jour- 
nal of  a  Tour  to  the  Hebrides,"  third  edition,  page  67,)  but  unhappily  his  Lord- 
ship had  resumed  and  cherished  a  violent  prejudice  against  my  illustrious  friend, 
to  whom  I  must  do  the  justice  to  say,  there  was  on  his  part  not  the  least  anger, 
but  a  good  humoured  sportiveness.  Nay,  though  he  knew  of  his  Lordship's  indis- 
position towards  him,  he  was  even  kindly  ;  as  appeared  from  liis  enquiring  of 
me  after  him,  bv  an  abbreviation  of  his  name,  "  Well,  how  does  Monny  ?" 


DR.   JOHNSON.  369 

as  the  youngest  man.     I  find  only  these  three  small  >784. 
particulars  :— When  a    person   was   mentioned,    vvho^^^^ 
said,  "  1  have  lived  fifty-one  years  in  this  world,  with-   75.  * 
out  having  had  ten  minutes  of  uneasiness  ;  he  exclaim- 
ed,   "    The   man   who  says  so,   lies  :    he  attempts  to 
impose  on  human  credulity."     The  Bishop  of  Exeter' 
in  vain  observed,   that  men  were  very  different.     His 
Lordship's   manner   was  not   impressive  ;  and  1  learnt 
afterwards,  that  Johnson  did  not  find  out  that  the  per- 
son   who  talked   to  him   was  a  Prelate  ;  if  he   had,  I 
doubt  not  that  he  would  have  treated  him  with  more 
respect  :    for  once   talking    of    George    Psalmanazar, 
whom  he  reverenced  for  his  piety,   he  said,  "  1  should 
as  soon  think  of  contradicting  a  Bishop."     One  of  the 
company  provoked  him  greatly  by  doing  what  he  could 
least  of  all  bear,   which  was  quoting  something  of  his 
own  writing,  against  what  he  then  maintained.    "  What, 
Sir,  (cried  the  gentleman.)  do  you  say  to 

'  The  busy  day,  the  peaceful  night, 
'  Unfelt,  uncounted,  glided  by  ?"' 

Johnson  finding  himself  thus  presented  as  giving  an 
instance  of  a  man  who  had  lived  without  uneasiness, 
was  much  offended,  for  he  looked  upon  such  a  quota- 
tion as  unfair.  His  anger  burst  out  in  an  unjustifiable 
retort,  insinuating  that  the  gentleman's  remark  was  a 
sally  of  ebriety  ;  "  Sir,  there  is  one  passion  I  would 
advise  you  to  command  :  when  you  have  drunk  out 
that  glass,  don't  drink  another,'^  Here  was  exempli- 
fied what  Goldsmith  said  of  him,  with  the  aid  of  a  very 
witty  image  from  one  of  Gibber's  Comedies  :  "  There 
is  no  arguing  with  Johnson  :  for  if  his  pistol  misses 
fire,  he  knocks  you  down  with  the  butt  end  of  it." 

Another  was  this  :  when  a  gentleman  of  eminence 
in  the  literary  world  was  violently  censured  for  attack- 
ing people  by  anonymous  paragraphs  in  news-papers  ; 
he,  from  the  spirit  of  contradiction  as  1  thought,  took 
up  his  defence,  and  said,  "  Come,  come,  this  is  not  so 
terrible  a  crime  ;  he  means  only  to  vex  them  a  little. 

'  [Dr.  John  Ross.j        "  Verses  on  the  death  of  Mr.  Levet. 
VOL.   III.  47 


370  THE    LIFE    OF 

1784.  T  do  not  say  that  I  should  do  it  ;  but  there  is  a  great 
^taT  <^^'fference   between   him   and  me  ;  what  is  fit  for  He- 

75.  phiEstion  is  not  fit  for  Alexander.'' — Another,  when  1 
told  him  that  a  young  and  handsome  Countess  had 
said  to  me,  "  1  should  think  that  to  be  praised  by  Dr. 
Johnson  would  make  one  a  fool  all  one's  life  ;"  and 
that  I  answered,  '  Madam,  [  shall  make  him  a  fool  to- 
day, by  repeatii^  this  to  him  ;'  he  said,  "  1  am  too 
old  to  be  made  a  fool  ;  but  if  you  say  1  am  made  a 
fool,  I  shall  not  deny  it.  1  am  much  pleased  with  a 
compliment,  especially  from  a  pretty  woman." 

On  the  evening  of  Saturday,  May  15,  he  was  in  fine 
spirits,  at  our  Essex-Head  Club.  He  told  us,  "  I 
dined  yesterday  at  Mrs.  Garrick's  with  Mrs.  Carter, 
Miss  Hannah  More,  and  Miss  Fanny  Burney.  Three 
such  women  are  not  to  be  found  :  1  know  not  where  I 
could  find  a  fourth,  except  Mrs.  Lenox,  who  is  supe- 
riour  to  them  all."  Boswell.  "  What  !  had  you 
them  all  to  yourself,  Sir  ?"  Johnson.  "  1  had  them 
all  as  much  as  they  were  had  ;  but  it  might  have  been 
better  had  there  been  more  company  there."  Bos- 
well. "  Might  not  Mrs.  Montagu  have  been  a 
fourth  I"  Johnson.  "  Sir,  Mrs.  Montagu  does  not 
make  a  trade  of  her  wit  ;  but  Mrs.  Montagu  is  a  very 
extraordinary  woman  ;  she  has  a  constant  stream  of 
conversation,  and  it  is  always  impregnated  ;  it  has  al- 
ways meaning."  Bosavell.  "  Mr.  Burke  has  a  con- 
stant stream  of  conversation."  Johnson.  "  Yes,  Sir; 
if  a  man  were  to  go  by  chance  at  the  same  time  with 
Burke  under  a  shed,  to  shun  a  shower,  he  would  say — 
'  this  is  an  extraordinary  man.  If  Burke  should  go 
into  a  stable  to  see  his  horse  drest,  the  ostler  would 
say — '  we  have  had  an  extraordinary  man  here."  Bos- 
well. "  Foote  was  a  man  who  never  failed  in  conver- 
sation. If  he  had  gone  into  a  stable — "  Johnson. 
"  Sir,  if  he  had  gone  into  the  stable,  the  ostler  would 
have  said,  here  has  been  a  comical  fellow  ;  but  he 
would  not  have  respected  him."  Boswell.  "  And, 
Sir,  the  ostler  would  have  answered  him,  would  have 
given  him  as  good  as  he  brought,  as  the  common  say- 
ing is."    Johnson.  "  Yes,  Sir  ;  and  Foote  would  have 


DR.   JOHNSON.  371 

answered  the  ostler. When  Burke  does  not  descend  ^784. 

to  be  merry,  his  conversation  is  very  superiour  indeed.  ^"^ 
There  is  no  proportion  between  the  powers  which  he  75.  ' 
shews  in  serious  talk  and  in  jocularity.  When  he  lets 
himself  down  to  that,  he  is  in  the  kennel."  1  have  in 
another  place*  opposed,  and  1  hope  with  success.  Dr. 
Johnson's  very  singular  and  erroneous  notion  as  to  Mr. 
Burke's  pleasantry.  Mr.  Windham  now  said  low  to 
me,  that  he  differed  from  our  great  friend  in  this  ob- 
servation ;  for  that  Mr.  Burke  was  often  very  happy  in 
his  merriment.  It  would  not  have  been  right  for  either 
of  us  to  have  contradicted  Johnson  at  this  time,  in  a 
Society  all  of  whom  did  not  know  and  value  Mr.  Burke 
as  much  as  we  did.  It  might  have  occasioned  some- 
thing more  rough,  and  at  any  rate  would  probablv  have 
checked  the  flow  of  Johnson's  good-humour.  He 
called  to  us  with  a  sudden  air  of  exultation,  as  the 
thought  started  into  his  mind,  "  O  !  Gentlemen,  I 
must  tell  you  a  very  great  thing.  The  Empress  of  Rus- 
sia has  ordered  the  '  Rambler'  to  be  translated  into  the 
Russian  language  :^  so  I  shall  be  read  on  the  banks  of 
the  Wolga.  Horace  boasts  that  his  fame  would  extend 
as  far  as  the  banks  of  the  Rhone  ;  now  the  Wolga  is 
farther  from  me  than  the  Rhone  was  from  Horace." 
BoswELL.  "  You  must  certainly  be  pleased  with  this, 
Sir."  Johnson.  "  1  am  pleased.  Sir,  to  be  sure.  A 
man  is  pleased  to  find  he  has  succeeded  in  that  which 
he  has  endeavoured  to  do." 

One  of  the  company  mentioned  his  having  seen  a 
noble  person  driving  in  his  carriage,  and  looking  exceed- 
ingly well,  notwithstanding  his^4^at  age.  Johnson. 
"  Ah,  Sir  ;  that  is  nothing.  Bacon  observes,  that  a 
stout  healthy  old  man  is  like  a  tower  undermined." 

On  Sunday,  May  I6,  I  found  him  alone  ;  he  talked 
of  Mrs.  Thrale  with  much  concern,  saying,  "  Sir,  she 
has  done  every  thing  wrong,  since  Thrale's  bridle  was 
off  her  neck  ;"  and   was  proceeding  to  mention  some 

^  "  Journal  of  a  Tour  to  the  Hebrides,"  third  edition,  p.  20. 

2  I  have  since  heard  that  the  report  was  not  well  founded ;  hut  the  elation  dis- 
covered by  Johnson  in  the  belief  that  it  was  true,  shewed  a  noble  ardour  for  lit- 
erary fame. 


37'2  THE    LIFE    OF 

1/84.  circumstances  which   fiave  since  been  the  subject  of 
MtAt'.  publick  discussion,   when   he  was   interrupted  by  the 
75.    arrival  of  Dr.  Douglas,  now  Bishop  of  Sahsbury. 

Dr.  Douglas,  upon  this  occasion,  refuted  a  mistaken 
notion  which  is  very  common  in  Scotland,  that  the 
ecclesiastical  discipline  of  the  Church  of  England, 
though  duly  enforced,  is  insufficient  to  preserve  the 
morals  of  the  clergy,  inasmuch  as  all  delinquents  may 
be  screened  by  appealing  to  the  Convocation,  which 
being  never  authorized  by  the  King  to  sit  for  the  dis- 
patch of  business,  the  appeal  never  can  be  heard.  Dr. 
Douglas  observed,  that  this  was  founded  upon  igno- 
rance ;  for  that  the  Bishops  have  sufficient  power  to 
maintain  discipline,  and  that  the  sitting  of  the  convo- 
cation was  wholly  immaterial  in  this  respect,  it  being 
not  a  Court  of  .Judicature,  but  like  a  parliament,  to 
make  canons  and  regulations  as  times  may  require. 

Johnson,  talking  of  the  fear  of  death,  said,  "  Some 
people  are  not  afraid,  because  they  look  upon  salvation 
as  the  etfect  of  an  absolute  decree,  and  think  they  feel 
in  themselves  the  marks  of  sanctification.  Others,  and 
those  the  most  rational  in  my  opinion,  look  upon  salva- 
tion as  conditional ;  and  as  they  never  can  be  sure  that 
they  have  complied  with  the  conditions,  they  are  afraid." 
In  one  of  his  little  manuscript  diaries,  about  this 
time,  I  find  a  short  notice,  which  marks  his  amiable 
dispositions  more  certainly  than  a  thousand  studied  de- 
clarations.— "  Afternoon  spent  cheerfully  and  elegant- 
ly, 1  hope  without  offence  to  GpD  or  man  ;  though  in 
no  holy  duty,  yet  in  the  general  exercise  and  cultiva- 
tion of  benevolence." 

On  Monday,  May  17,  I  dined  with  him  at  Mr.  Dil- 
ly's,  where  were  Colonel  A'allancy,  the  Reverend  Dr. 
Gibbons,  and  Mr.  Capel  Lofft,  who,  though  a  most 
zealous  Whig,  has  a  mind  so  full  of  learning  and  knowl- 
edge, and  so  much  exercised  in  various  departments, 
and  withal  so  much  liberality,  that  the  stupendous 
powers  of  the  literary  Goliath,  though  they  did  not 
frighten  this  little  David  of  popular  spirit,  could  not  but 
excite  his  admiration.  There  was  also  Mr.  Braithwaite 
of  the  Post-office,  that  amiable  and  friendly  man,  who, 


DR.    JOHNSON.  373 

with  modest  and  unassuming  manners,  has  associated  ''784, 
with  many  of  the  wits  of  the  age.  Johnson  was  very  ^^taT 
quiescent  to-day.  Perhaps  too  1  was  indolent.  1  find  75. 
nothing  more  of  him  in  my  notes,  but  that  when  I  men- 
tioned that  I  had  seen  in  the  King's  hbrary  sixty-three 
editions  of  my  favourite  Thomas  a  Kempis, — amono;st 
which  it  was  in  eight  languages,  Latin,  German,  French, 
Itahan,  Spanish,  Enghsh,  Arabick,  and  Armenian, — he 
said,  he  thought  it  unnecessary  to  collect  many  editions 
of  a  book,  which  were  all  the  same,  except  as  to  the 
paper  and  print ;  he  would  have  the  original,  and  all  the 
translations,  and  all  the  editions  which  had  any  varia- 
tions in  the  text.  He  approved  of  the  famous  collec- 
tion of  editions  of  Horace  by  Douglas,  mentioned  by 
Pope,  who  is  said  to  have  had  a  closet  filled  w^th  them  ; 
and  he  added,  "  every  man  should  try  to  collect  one 
book  in  that  manner,  and  present  it  to  a  publick 
hbrary." 

On  Tuesday,  May  18,  I  saw  him  for  a  short  time  in 
the  morning.  I  told  him  that  the  mob  had  called  out, 
as  the  King  passed,  "  No  Fox — No  Fox,"  which  I  did 
not  like.  He  said,  "  They  were  right,  Sir."  1  said,  I 
thought  not ;  for  it  seemed  to  be  making  Mr.  Fox  the 
King's  competitor.  There  being  no  audience,  so  that 
there  could  be  no  triumph  in  a  victory,  he  fairly  agreed 
with  me.  I  said  it  might  do  very  well,  if  explained 
thus  :  "  Let  us  have  no  Fox  ;"  understanding  it  as  a 
prayer  to  his  Majesty  not  to  appoint  that  gentleman 
minister. 

On  Wednesday,  May  19,  I  sat  a  part  of  the  evening 
with  him,  by  ourselves.  I  observed,  that  the  death  of  our 
friends  might  be  a  consolation  against  the  fear  of  our 
own  dissolution,  because  we  might  have  more  friends 
in  the  other  world  than  in  this.  He  perhaps  felt  this  as 
a  reflection  upon  his  apprehension  as  to  death  ;  and 
said,  with  heat,  "  How  can  a  man  know  zv/iere  his  de- 
parted friends  are,  or  whether  they  will  be  his  friends 
in  the  other  world.  How  many  friendships  have  you 
known  formed  upon  principles  of  virtue?  Most  friend- 
ships are  formed  by  caprice  or  by  chance,  mere  confed- 
eracies in  vice  or  leagues  in  folly." 


^74  THE    LIFE    OF 

1784,      We  talked  of  our  worthy  friend  Mr.   Langton.     He 

^^  said,  "  1  know  not  who  will  go  to  Heaven  if  Langton 

75.    does  not.     Sir,    I  could  almost  say,   Sif  anima  mea  cum 

LangtonoP     1   mentioned   a  very  eminent  friend   as  a 

virtuous  man.     Johnson.    "  Yes,  Sir  ;  but has 

not  the  evangelical  virtue  of  Langton.      ,  1  am 

afraid,  would  not  scruple  to  pick  up  a  wench." 

He  however  charged  Mr.  Langton  with  what  he 
thought  want  of  judgement  upon  an  interesting  occa- 
sion. "  When  1  was  ill,  (said  he)  I  desired  he  would 
tell  me  sincerely  in  what  he  thought  my  life  was  faulty. 
Sir,  he  brought  me  a  sheet  of  paper,  on  which  he  had 
written  down  several  texts  of  Scripture,  recommending 
christian  charity.  And  when  1  questioned  him  what 
occasion  1  had  given  for  such  an  animadversion,  all  that 
he  could  say  amounted  to  this, — that  1  sometimes  con- 
tradicted people  in  conversation.  Now  what  harm  does 
it  do  to  any  man  to  be  contradicted  !"  Boswell.  "  I 
suppose  he  meant  the  manner  of  doing  it  ;  roughly, — 
and  harshly.''  Johnson.  "  And  who  is  the  worse  for 
that?"  Boswell.  "It  hurts  people  of  weaker  nerves," 
Johnson.  "  I  know  no  such  weak-nerved  people."  Mr. 
Burke,  to  whom  1  related  this  conference,  said,  "  It  is 
well,  if  when  a  man  comes  to  die,  he  has  nothing  heav- 
ier upon  his  conscience  than  having  been  a  little  rough 
in  conversation." 

Johnson,  at  the  time  when  the  paper  was  presented 
to  him,  though  at  first  pleased  with  the  attention  of  his 
friend,  whom  he  thanked  in  an  earnest  manner,  soon 
exclaimed  in  a  loud  and  angry  tone,  "  What  is  your 
drift.  Sir?"  Sir  Joshua  Reynolds  pleasantly  observed, 
that  it  was  a  scene  for  a  comedy,  to  see  a  penitent  get 
into  a  violent  passion  and  belabour  his  confessor.* 

*  After  all,  I  cannot  but  be  of  opinion,  that  as  Mr.  Langton  was  seriously 
requested  by  Dr.  Johnson  to  mention  what  appeared  to  him  erroneous  in  the 
character  of  his  friend,  he  was  bound  as  an  honest  man,  to  intimate  what  he 
really  thought,  which  he  certainly  did  in  the  most  delicate  manner  ;  so  that  John- 
son himself,  when  in  a  quiet  frame  of  mind,  was  pleased  with  it.  The  texts  sug- 
gested  arc  now  before  me,  and  I  shall  quote  a  few  of  them.  "  Blessed  are  the  meek, 
for  they  shall  inherit  the  earth."  Mat.  v.  5. — '  I  Therefore,  the  prisoner  of  the 
Lord,  beseech  you,  that  ye  walk,  worthy  of  the  vocation  wherewith  ye  are  called, 
with  all  lowliness  and  me^ness,  with  long-suffering,  forbearing  one  another  in 
love."     Ephes.  V.  1 ,  2, — "  And  aljove  all  these  things  put  on  charity,  which  is  the 


DR.   JOHNSON.  37o 

1  have  preserved  no  more  of  his  conversation  at  the  1784. 
times  when  1  saw  him  during  the  rest  of  this  month,  ^J^ 
till  Sunday,  the  30th  of  May,  when  1  met  him  in  the  7S. 
evening  at  Mr.  IJoole's,  where  there  was  a  large  com- 
pany both  of  ladies  and  gentlemen.  Sir  James  John- 
ston happened  to  sav,  that  he  paid  no  regard  to  the 
arguments  of  counsel  at  the  bar  of  the  House  of  Com- 
mons, because  they  were  paid  for  speaking.  Johnson. 
"Nay,  Sir,  argument  is  argument.  You  cannot  help 
paying  regard  to  their  arguments,  if  they  are  good.  If 
it  were  testimony,  you  might  disregard  it,  if  you  knew 
that  it  were  purchased.  There  is  a  beautiful  image  in 
Bacon  5  upon  this  subject :  testimony  is  like  an  arrow 
shot  from  a  long  bow  ;  the  force  of  it  depends  on  the 
strength  of  the  hand  that  draws  it.  Argument  is  like 
an  arrow  from  a  cross-bow,  which  has  equal  force 
though  shot  by  a  child." 

He  had  dined  that  day  at  Mr.  Hoole's,  and  Miss 
Helen  Maria  Williams  being  expected  in  the  evening, 
Mr.  Hoole  put  into  his  hands  her  beautiful  "  Ode  on 
the  Peace  :"^  Johnson  read  it  over,  and  when  this 
elegant,  and  accomplished  young  lady^  was  presented 
to  him,  he  took  her  by  the  hand  in  the  most  courteous 
manner,  and  repeated  the  finest  stanza  of  her  poem  ; 

bond  of  perfectness."  Col.  iii.  14. — "  Charity  sufFereth  long,  and  is  kind  :  charity, 
envieth  not,  charity  vaunteth  not  itself,  is  not  puffed  up  :  doth  not  behave  itself  un- 
seemly, is  not  easily  provoked."     1  Cor.  xiii.  4,  5. 

'  [Dr.  Johnson's  memory  deceived  him.  The  passage  referred  to  is  not  Bacon's, 
but  Boyle's  :  and  may  be  found,  with  a  slight  variation,  in  Johnson's  Dictionary, 
under  the  word — Crossbow. — So  happily  selected  are  the  greater  part  of  the 
examples  in  that  incomparable  work,  that  i.  the  most  striking  passages  found  in  it 
were  collected  by  one  of  our  modern  book-makers,  under  the  title  of  The  Beau- 
ties of  Johnson's  Dictionary,  they  would  form  a  very  pleasing  and  popular 
volume.     M.] 

*  The  Peace  made  by  that  very  able  statesman,  the  Earl  of  Shelburne,  now  Mar- 
quis of  Lansdown,  which  niav  fairly  be  considered  as  the  foundation  of  all  the  pros- 
perity of  Great  Britain  since  that  time. 

In  the  first  edition  of  my  Work,  the  epithet  amiable  was  given.  I  was  sotry 
to  be  obliged  to  strike  it  out ;  but  I  could  not  in  justice  suffer  it  to  remain,  after 
this  young  lady  had  not  only  written  in  favour  of  the  savage  Anarchy  with 
which  France  has  been  visited,  but  had  (as  I  have  been  informed  by  good  au- 
thority,) walked,  without  horrour,  over  the  ground  at  the  Thuilleries  when  it  was 
strewed  with  the  naked  bodies  of  the  faithful  Swiss  Guards,  who  were  barbarously 
massacred  for  having  bravely  defended,  against  a  crew  of  rufBans,  the  Monarch 
whom  they  had  taken  an  oath  to  defend.  From  Dr.  Johnson  she  could  now  ex- 
pect not  endearment  but  repuliion. 


376  THE    LIFE    OF 

1784.  this  was  the  most  delicate  and  pleasing  compliment  he 
^^^  could  pay.  Her  respectable  friend,  Dr.  Kippis,  from 
75.  whom  1  had  this  anecdote,  was  standing  by,  and  was 
not  a  little  gratified. 

Miss  Williams  told  me,  that  the  only  other  time  she 
was  fortunate  enough  to  be  in  Dr.  Johnson's  company, 
he  asked  her  to  sit  down  by  him,  which  she  did,  and 
upon  her  enquiring  how  he  was,  he  answered  "  1  am 
very  ill  indeed.  Madam.  1  am  very  ill  even  when  you 
are  near  me  ;  what  should  1  be  were  you  at  a  distance." 

He  had  now  a  great  desire  to  go  to  Oxford,  as  his 
iirst  jaunt  after  his  illness;  we  talked  of  it  for  some 
days,  and  1  had  promised  to  accompany  him.  He  was 
impatient  and  fretful  to-night,  because  1  did  not  at 
once  agree  to  go  with  him  on  Thursday.  When  1 
considered  how  ill  he  had  been,  and  what  allowance 
should  be  made  for  the  influence  of  sickness  upon  his 
temper,  1  resolved  to  indulge  him,  though  with  some 
inconvenience  to  myself,  as  1  wished  to  attend  the 
musical  meeting  in  honour  of  Handel,  in  Westminster- 
Abbey,  on  the  following  Saturday. 

In  the  midst  of  his  own  diseases  and  pains,  he  was 
ever  compassionate  to  the  distresses  of  others,  and 
actively  earnest  in  procuring  them  aid,  as  appears  from 
a  note  to  Sir  Joshua  Reynolds,  of  June,  in  these  words: 
"  I  am  ashamed  to  ask  for  some  relief  for  a  poor  man, 
to  whom,  1  hope,  I  have  given  what  1  can  be  expected 
to  spare.  The  man  importunes  me,  and  the  blow  goes 
round.     I  am  going  to  try  another  air  on  Thursday." 

On  Thursday,  June  .3,  the  Oxford  post-coach  took 
us  up  in  the  morning  at  Bolt-court.  The  other  two 
passengers  were  Mrs.  Beresford  and  her  daughter,  two 
very  agreeable  ladies  from  America  ;  they  were  going 
to  Worcestershire,  where  they  then  resided.  Frank 
had  been  sent  by  his  master  the  day  before  to  take 
places  for  us ;  and  1  found  from  the  way-bill  that  Dr. 
Johnson  had  made  our  names  be  put  down.  Mrs. 
Beresford,  who  had  read  it,  whispered  me,  "  Is  this  the 
great  Dr.  Johnson  !"  1  told  her  it  was  ;  so  she  was 
then  prepared  to  listen.  As  she  soon  happened  to 
mention  in  a  voice  so  low  that  Johnson  did  not  hear  it. 


DR.    JOHNSON.  377 

that  her  husband  had  been  a  member  of  the  American  '784. 
Congress,  I  cautioned  her  to  beware  of  introducing^^ 
that  subject,  as  she  must  know  how  very  violent  John*   75.* 
son  was  against  the  people  of  that  country.     He  talked 
a  great  deal.     But  1  am  sorry  1  have  preserved  little  of 
the  conversation.     Miss  Beresford  was  so  much  charm- 
ed, that  she  said  to  me  aside,  "  How   he  does   talk ! 
Every  sentence  is  an  essay."     She  amused  herself  in 
the  coach  with  knotting  ;  he  would  scarcely  allow  this 
species  of  employment  any  merit.     "  Next   to  mere 
idleness  (said  he)  I  think  knotting  is  to  be  reckoned  in 
the  scale  of  insignificance  ;  though  I  once  attempted 
to  learn  knotting.     Dempster's  sister  (looking  to  me) 
endeavoured  to  teach  me  it ;  but  I  made  no  progress." 

I  was  surprized  at  his  talking  without  reserve  in  the 
publick  post-coach  of  the  state  of  his  affairs  ;  "  I  have 
(said  he)  about  the  world  I  think  above  a  thousand 
pounds,  which  I  intend  shall  afford  Frank  an  annuity 
of  seventy  pounds  a  year."  Indeed  his  openness  with 
people  at  a  first  interview  was  remarkable.  He  said 
once  to  Mr.  Langton,  "  I  think  I  am  like  Squire  Rich- 
ard in  '  The  Journey  to  London,'  "  Vm  never  strange 
in  a  strange  placed  He  was  truly  social.  He  strong- 
ly censured  what  is  much  too  common  in  England 
among  persons  of  condition, — maintaining  an  absolute 
silence,  when  unknown  to  each  other  ;  as  for  instance, 
when  occasionally  brought  together  in  a  room  before 
the  master  or  mistress  of  the  house  has  appeared. 
"  Sir,  that  is  being  so  uncivilized  as  not  to  understand 
the  common  rights  of  humanity." 

At  the  inn  where  we  stopped  he  was  exceedingly 
dissatisfied  with  some  roast  mutton  which  he  had  for 
dinner.  The  ladies,  I  saw,  wondered  to  see  the  great 
philosopher,  whose  wisdom  and  wit  they  had  been 
admiring  all  the  way,  get  into  ill-humour  from  such  a 
cause.  He  scolded  the  waiter,  saying,  "  It  is  as  bad 
as  bad  can  be :  it  is  ill-fed,  ill-killed,  ill-kept,  and  ill- 
drest." 

He  bore  the  journey  very  well,  and  seemed  to  feel 
himself  elevated  as  he  approached  Oxford,  that  mag- 
nificent and  venerable  seat  of  Learning,  Orthodoxy, 

VOJ,.  ITT.  1'8 


37f>  THE    LIFE    OF 

'784.  and  Toryism.  Frank  came  in  the  heavy  coach,  in 
iEtaT  J'^'^diness  to  attend  him  ;  and  we  were  received   with 

75.  the  most  pohte  hospitahty  at  the  house  of  his  old  friend 
Dr.  Adams,  Master  of  Pembroke  College,  who  had 
given  us  a  kind  invitation.  Before  we  were  set 
down,  I  communicated  to  Johnson,  my  having  engag- 
ed to  return  to  London  directly,  for  the  reason  1  have 
mentioned,  but  that!  would  hasten  back  to  him  again. 
He  was  pleased  that  1  had  made  this  journey  merely  to 
keep  him  company.  He  was  easy  and  placid,  with 
Dr.  Adams,  Mrs.  and  Miss  Adams,  and  Mrs.  Kennicot, 
widow  of  the  learned  Hebraean,  who  was  here  on  a 
visit.  He  soon  dispatched  the  enquiries  which  were 
made  about  his  illness  and  recovery,  by  a  short  and 
distinct  narrative  ;  and  then  assuming  a  gay  air,  repeat- 
ed from  Swift, 

"  Nor  think  on   our  approaching  ills, 
"  And  talked  of  spectacles  and  pills." 

Dr.  Newton,  the  Bishop  of  Bristol,  having  been  men- 
tioned, Johnson,  recollecting  the  manner  in  which  he 
had  been  censured  by  that  Prelate,*  thus  retaliated: — 
"  Tom  knew  he  should  be  dead  before  what  he  has 
said  of  me  would  appear.  He  durst  not  have  primed 
it  while  he  was  alive."     Dr.  Adams.  "  1  believe  his 

^  Dr.  Newton  In  his  account  of  his  own  Life,  after  animadverting  upoa,  Mr. 
Gibbon's  History,  says,  "  Dr.  Johnson's  '  Lives  of  the  Poets'  afforded  more  amuse- 
ment ;  but  candour  was  much  hurt  and  offended  at  the  malevolence  that  predom- 
inates in  every  part.  Some  passages,  it  must  be  allowed,  are  judicious  and  well 
written,  but  make  not  sufficient  compensation  for  so  much  spleen  and  ill-humour. 
Never  was  any  biographer  more  sparing  of  his  praise,  or  more  abundant  in  his 
censures.  He  seemingly  delights  more  in  exposing  blemishes,  than  in  recommend- 
ing beauties ;  slightly  passes  over  excellencies,  enlarges  upon  imperfections,  and 
not  content  writh  his  own  severe  reflections,  revives  old  scandal,  and  produces 
large  quotations  from  the  forgotten  works  of  former  criticks.  His  reputation  was 
so  high  in  the  republick  of  letters,  that  it  wanted  not  to  be  raised  upon  the  ruins 
of  otliers.  But  these  Essays,  instead  of  raising  a  higher  idea  than  was  before  en- 
tertained of  his  understanding,  have  certainly  given  the  world  a  worse  opinion  of 
his  temper. — The  Bishop  was  therefore  the  more  surprized  and  concerned  for  his 
townsman,  for  he  respected  him  not  only  for  his  genius  and  learning,  but  -valued  him  much 
for  the  more  amiable  part  of  his  character,  his  humanity  and  charity,  his  morality  and  relig- 
ion." The  last  sentence  we  may  consider  as  the  general  and  permanent  opinion 
of  Bishop  Newton ;  the  remarks  which  precede  it  must,  by  all  who  have  read 
Johnson's  admirable  work,  be  imputed  to  the  disgust  and  peevishness  of  old  age. 
I  wish  they  had  not  appeared,  and  that  Dr.  Johnson  had  not  been  provoked  by 
them  to  express  himself  not  in  respectful  terms,  of  a  Prelate,  whose  labours  were 
certainly  of  considerable  advantage  both  to  literature  and  religion. 


DR.    JOHNSON.  379 

'  Dissertations  on   the  Prophecies'  is  his  great  work."  '784. 
Johnson.  "  Why,  Sir,  it  is  Tom's  great  work  ;  but  how  2t^^ 
far  it  is  great,   or  how  much  of  it  is  Tom's,   are  other    7.5.' 
questions.     1  fancy  a  considerable  part  of  it  was  bor- 
rowed."    Dr.   Adams.    "  He  was  a  very  successful 
man."     Johnson.  "  1  don't  think  so.  Sir. — He  did  not 
get  very  high.     He   was  late  in  getting  what  he  did 
get ;  and   he  did  not  get  it  by  the  best  means.     1  be- 
Jieve  he  was  a  gross  flatterer." 

I  fulfilled  my  intention  by  going  to  London,  and  re- 
turned to  Oxford  on  Wednesday  the  9th  of  June, 
when  I  was  happy  to  find  myself  again  in  the  same 
agreeable  circle  at  Pembroke  College,  with  the  com- 
fortable prospect  of  making  some  stay.  Johnson  wel- 
comed my  return  with  more  than  ordinary  glee. 

He  talked  with  great  regard  of  the  Honourable 
Archibald  Campbell,  whose  character  he  had  given  at 
the  Duke  of  Argyll's  table,  when  we  were  at  Inve- 
rary  ;^  and  at  this  time  wrote  out  for  me,  in  his  own 
hand,  a  fuller  account  of  that  learned  and  venerable 
writer,  which  I  have  published  in  its  proper  place. 
Johnson  made  a  remark  this  evening  which  struck  me 
a  good  deal.  "  1  never  (said  he)  knew  a  nonjuror  who 
could  reason."'  Surely  he  did  not  mean  to  deny  that 
faculty  to  many  of  their  writers  ;  to  Hickes,  Brett,  and 
other  eminent  divines  of  that  persuasion  ;  and  did  not 
recollect  that  the  seven  Bishops,  so  justly  celebrated 
for  their  magnanimous  resistance  of  arbitrary  power, 
were  yet  Nonjurors  to  the  new  Government.  The 
nonjuring  clergy  of  Scotland,  indeed,  who,  ex«'epting  a 
few,  have  lately,  by  a  sudden  stroke,  cut  off  all  ties  of 
allegiance  to  the  house  of  Stuart,  and  resolved  to  pray 

•*  "  Journal  of  a  Tour  to  the  Hebrides,"  third  edit.  p.  371. 

'  The  Rev.  Mr.  Agutter  has  favoured  me  with  a  note  of  a  dialogue  between  Mr. 
John  Henderson  and  Dr.  Johnson  on  this  topick,  as  related  by  Mr.  Henderson, 
and  it  is  evidently  so  authentick  that  I  shall  here  insert  it : — Henderson.  "  What  do 
you  think,  Sir,  of  William  Law  ?"  Johnson.  "  William  Law,  Sir,  wrote  the  best 
piece  of  Parenetick  Divinity  ;  but  William  Law  was  no  reasoner."  Henderson. 
"  Jeremy  Collier,  Sir  ?"  Johnson.  "  Jeremy  Collier  fought  without  a  rival,  and 
therefore  could  not  claim  the  victory."  Mr.  Henderson  mentioned  Kenn  and 
Kettlewell ;  but  some  objections  were  made  ;  at  last  he  said,  but.  Sir,  "  What  do 
you  think  of  Lesley  .<"'  Johnson.  «  Charles  Lesley  I  had  forgotten.  Lesley -was  a 
reasoner,  and  a  reasoner  luho  zvas  not  it  he  reasoned  against." 


380  THE    LIFE    OF 

1784.  for  our  present  lawful  Sovereign  by  name,  may  be 
Mr^  thought  to  have  confirmed  this  remark  ;  as  it  may  be 
75.  said,  that  the  divine  indefeasible  hereditary  right  which 
they  professed  to  believe,  if  ever  true,  must  be  equally 
true  still.  Many  of  my  readers  will  be  surprized  when 
1  mention,  that  Johnson  assured  me  he  bad  never  in 
his  life  been  in  a  nonjuring  meeting-house. 

Next  morning  at  breakfast,  he  pointed  out  a  passage 
in  Savage's  "  Wanderer,"  saying  "  These  are  fine 
verses." — "  If  (said  he)  1  had  written  with  hostility  of 
Warburton  in  my  Shakspeare,  1  should  have  quoted 
this  couplet  : 

*  Here  Learning,  blinded  first,  and  then  beguiPd, 
'  Looks  dark  as  Ignorance,  as  Frenzy  wild/ 

You  see  they'd  have  fitted  him  to  a  T,"  (smiling.)  Dr. 
Adams.  "  But  you  did  not  write  against  Warburton." 
Johnson.  "  No,  Sir,  I  treated  him  with  great  respect 
both  in  my  preface  and  in  my  notes." 

Mrs.  Kennicot  spoke  of  her  brother,  the  Reverend 
Mr.  Chamberlayne,  who  had  given  up  great  prospects 
in  the  Church  of  England  on  his  conversion  to  the  Ro- 
man Catholick  faith.  Johnson,  who  warmly  admired 
every  man  who  acted  from  a  conscientious  regard  to 
principle,  erroneous  or  not,  exclaimed  fervently,  "God 
bless  him." 

Mrs.  Kennicot,  in  confirmation  of  Dr.  Johnson's 
opinion,  that  the  present  was  not  worse  than  former 
ages,  mentioned  that  her  brother  assured  her,  there 
was  now  less  infidelity  on  the  Continent  than  there 
had  been  ;  Voltaire  and  Rousseau  were  less  read.  I 
asserted,  from  good  authority,  that  Hume's  infidelity 
was  certainly  less  read.  Johnson.  "  iVll  infidel  writers 
drop  into  oblivion,  when  personal  connections  and  the 
floridness  of  novelty  are  gone  ;  though  now  and  then 
a  foolish  fellow,  who  thinks  he  can  be  witty  upon  them, 
may  bring  them  again  into  notice.  There  will  some- 
times start  up  a  College  joker,  who  does  not  consider 
that  what  is  a  joke  in  a  College  will  not  do  in  the 
world,     To  such  defenders  of  Religion  1  would  apply 


DR.   JOHNSON.  381 

a  stanza  of  a  poem  which  1  remember  to  have  seen  in  i784. 
some  old  collection  :  SaT. 

75. 

*  Henceforth  be  quiet  and  agree, 

*  Each  kiss  his  empty  brother; 

*  Religion  scorns  a  foe  like  thee, 

'  But  dreads  a  friend  like  t'other/ 

Tlie  point  is  well,  though  the  expression  is  not  correct; 
one,  and  not  thee^  should  be  opposed  to  i* other P^ 

On  the  Roman  Catholick  religion  he  said,  "  If  you 
join  the  Papists  externally,  they  will  not  interrogate 
you  strictly  as  to  your  belief  in  their  tenets.  No  reas- 
oning Papist  believes  every  article  of  their  faith. 
There  is  one  side  on  which  a  good  man  might  be  per- 
suaded to  embrace  it.  A  good  man  of  a  timorous  dis- 
position, in  great  doubt  of  his  acceptance  with  God, 
and  pretty  credulous,  may  be  glad  to  be  of  a  church 
where  there  are  so  many  helps  to  get  to  Heaven.  I 
would  be  a  Papist  if  1  could.  I  have  fear  enough  ; 
but  an  obstinate  rationality  prevents  me.  I  shall  never 
be  a  Papist,  unless  on  the  near  approach  of  death,  of 
which  I  have  a  very  great  terrour.  I  wonder  that 
women  are  not  all  Papists.^'  Boswell.  "  They  are  not 
more  afraid  of  death  than  men  are.''  Johnson.  "  Be- 
cause they  are  less  wicked."  Dr.  Adams.  "  They 
are  more  pious."  Johnson.  "  No,  hang  e'm,  they  are 
not  more  pious.  A  wicked  fellow  is  the  most  pious 
when  he  takes  to  it.     He'll  beat  you  all  at  piety." 

He  argued  in  defence  of  some  of  the  peculiar  tenets 
of  the  Church  of  Rome.     As  to  the  giving  the  bread 

^  I  have  inserted  the  stanza  as  Johnson  repeated  it  from  memory ;  but  I  hare 
since  found  the  poem  itself,  in  "  The  Foundling  Hospital  for  Wit,"  printed  at  Lon- 
don, 1749.     It  is  as  follows  : 

"  Epigram,  occasioned  by  a  religious  dispute  at  Bath. 

"  On  Reason,  Faith,  and  Mystery  high, 

"  Two  \vits  harangue  the  table  ; 
'*  B ^y  believes  he  knows  not  why, 

"  N— — —  swears  'tis  all  a  fable. 

"  Peace,  coxcombs,  peace,  and  both  agre^, 

"  N  ,  kiss  thy  empty  brother ; 

••  Religion  laughs  at  foes  like  thee, 

"  And  dreads  a  friend  Uke  t'*ther." 


382  THE    LIFE    OP 

1784.  only  to  the  laity,  he  said,  "  They  may  think,  that  in 
^j^j.  what  is  merely  ritual,  deviations  from  the  primitive 
75.  mode  may  be  admitted  on  the  ground  of  convenience  ; 
and  I  think  they  are  as  well  v^■arranted  to  make  this  al- 
teration, as  we  are  to  substitute  sprinkling  m  the  room 
of  the  ancient  baptism."  As  to  the  invocation  of  saints, 
he  said,  "  Though  1  do  not  think  it  authorised,  it  ap- 
pears to  me,  that  '  the  communion  of  saints'  in  the 
Creed  means  the  communion  with  the  saints  in  Heaven, 
as  connected  with  '  The  holy  Catholick  Church."' 
He  admitted  the  influence  of  evil  spirits  upon  our 
minds,  and  said,  "  Nobody  who  believes  the  New- 
Testament  can  deny  it." 

I  brought  a  volume  of  Dr.  Hurd,  the  Bishop  of 
Worcester's  Sermons,  and  read  to  the  company  some 
passages  from  one  of  them,  upon  this  text,  "  Resist  the 
Devi/,  and  he  imll  flij  from  you."  James  iv.  7.  1  was 
happy  to  produce  so  judicious  and  elegant  a  supporter* 

^  Waller,  in  his  "  Divine  Poesie,"  Canto  first,  has  the  same  thought  finely  ex- 
pressed : 

"  The  Church  triumphant,  and  the  Church  below, 

"  In  songs  of  praise  their  present  union  show  ; 

"  Their  joys  are  fuU  ;  our  expectation  long, 

"  In  life  we  differ,  but  we  join  in  song ; 

"  Angels  and  we  assisted  by  this  art, 

"  May  sing  together,  though  we  dwell  apart." 

"  The  Sermon  thus  opens : — ^"  That  there  are  angels  and  spirits  good  and  bad ; 
that  at  the  head  of  these  last  there  is  one  more  considerable  and  malignant  than 
the  rest,  who,  in  the  form,  or  under  the  name  of  a  serpent,  was  deeply  concerned 
in  the  fall  of  man,  and  whose  head,  as  the  prophetick  language  is,  the  son  of  man 
was  one  day  to  bruise ;  that  this  evil  spirit,  though  that  prophecy  be  in  part  com- 
pleted, has  not  yet  received  his  death's  wound,  but  is  still  permitted,  for  ends  un- 
searchable to  us,  and  in  ways  which  we  cannot  particularly  explain,  to  have  a 
certain  degree  of  power  in  this  world  hostile  to  its  virtue  and  happiness,  and 
sometimes  exerted  with  too  much  success ;  all  this  is  so  clear  from  Scripture,  that 
no  believer,  unless  he  be  first  of  all  spoiled  by  philosophy  and  -vain  deceit,  can  possibly 
entertain  a  doubt  of  it." 

Having  treated  oi  possessions,  his  Lordship  says,  "  As  I  have  no  authority  to  affirm 
that  there  are  now  any  such,  so  neither  may  I  presume  to  say  with  confidence, 
that  there  are  not  any." 

"  But  then  with  regard  to  the  influence  of  evil  spirits  at  this  day  upon  the 
30ULS  of  men,  I  shall  take  leave  to  be  a  great  deal  more  peremptory. — [Then,  hav- 
ing stated  the  various  proofs,  he  adds,]  All  this,  I  say,  is  so  manifest  to  every  one 
who  reads  the  Scriptures,  that,  if  we  respect  their  authority,  the  question  concern- 
ing the  reality  of  the  demoniack  influence  upon  the  minds  of  men  is  clearly  de- 
termined." 

Let  it  be  remembered,  that  these  are  not  the  words  of  an  antiquated  or  obscure 
enthusiast,  but  of  a  learned  and  polite  Prelate  now  alive  ;  and  were  spoken,  not 
to  a  vulgar  congregation,  but  to  the  Honourable  Society  of  Lincoln 's-Inn.     His 


DR.    JOHNSON.  388 

of  a  doctrine,  which,  I  know  not  why,  should,  in  this  i784. 
world  of  imperfect  knowledge,  and,  therefore,  of  won-  ^^ 
der  and  mystery  in  a  thousand  instances,  be  contested  75,  * 
by  some  with   an  unthinking  assurance  and  flippancy. 

After  dinner,  when  one  of  us  talked  of  there  being  a 
great  enmity  between  Whig  and  Tory  ; — Johnson. 
"  Why,  not  so  much,  I  think,  unless  when  they  come 
into  competition  with  each  other.  There  is  none  when 
they  are  only  common  acquaintance,  none  when  they 
are  of  different  sexes.  A  Tory  will  marry  into  a  Whig 
family,  and  a  Whig  into  a  Tory  family,  without  any  re- 
luctance. But  indeed,  in  a  matter  of  much  more  con- 
cern than  political  tenets,  and  that  is  religion,  men  and 
women  do  not  concern  themselves  much  about  ditfer- 
ence  of  opinion  ;  and  ladies  set  no  value  on  the  moral 
character  of  men  who  pay  their  addresses  to  them  ;  the 
greatest  profligate  will  be  as  well  received  as  the  man 
of  the  greatest  virtue,  and  this  by  a  very  good  woman, 
by  a  woman  who  says  her  prayers  three  times  a  day." 
Our  ladies  endeavoured  to  defend  their  sex  from  this 
charge  ;  but  he  roared  them  down  !  "  No,  no,  a  lady 
will  take  Jonathan  Wild  as  readily  as  St.  Austin,  if  he 
has  threepence  more  ;  and,  what  is  worse,  her  parents 
will  give  her  to  him.  Women  have  a  perpetual  envy 
of  our  vices  ;  they  are  less  vicious  than  we,  not  from 
choice,  but  because  we  restrict  them  ;  they  are  the 
slaves  of  order  and  fashion  ;  their  virtue  is  of  more  con- 
sequence to  us  than  our  own,  so  far  as  concerns  this 
world." 

Miss  Adams  mentioned  a  gentleman  of  licentious 
character,  and  said,  "  Suppose  1  had  a  mind  to  marry 
that  gentleman,  would  my  parents  consent !"  Johnson. 
"  Yes.  theyM  consent,  and  you'd  go.  You'd  go,  though 
they  did  not  consent."  Miss  Adams.  "  Perhaps  their 
opposing  might  make  me  go."     Johnson.    "  O,  very 

Lordsliip  in  this  Sermon  explains  the  words,  "  deliver  us  from  evil,"  in  the  Lord's 
Prayer,  as  signifying  a  request  to  be  protected  from  "  the  evil  one,"  that  is,  the 
Devil.  This  is  well  illustrated  in  a  short  but  excellent  Commentary  by  my  late 
worthy  friend,  the  Reverend  Dr.  Lort,  of  whom  it  may  truly  be  said,  Multu  ille 
bonis  Jlebilis  occidit.  It  is  remarkable  that  Waller  in  his  "  Reflections  on  the  several 
Petitions,  in  that  sacred  form  of  devotion,"  has  understood  this  in  the  same  sense: 

"  Guard  us  from  all  temptations  of  the  Foe." 


JS*  THE    LIFE    OF 

i784.  well ;  you'd  take  one  whom  you  think  a  bad  man,  to 
2J^  have  the  pleasure  of  vexing  your  parents.  You  put 
75.  me  in  mind  of  Dr.  Barrowby,  the  physician,  who  was 
very  fond  of  swine's  flesh.  One  day,  when  he  was  eat- 
ing it,  he  said,  '  I  wish  1  was  a  Jew.' — '  Why  so  ?  (said 
somebody,)  the  Jews  are  not  allowed  to  eat  your  fa- 
vourite meat.' — '  Because,  (said  he,)  I  should  then  have 
the  gust  of  eating  it,  with  the  pleasure  of  sinning."—- 
Johnson  then  proceeded  in  his  declamation. 

Miss  Adams  soon  afterwards  made  an  observation 
that  1  do  not  recollect,  which  pleased  him  much  ;  he 
said  with  a  good-humoured  smile,  "  That  there  should 
be  so  much  excellence  united  with  so  much  depruv'itij^ 
is  strange." 

Indeed,  this  lady's  good  qualities,  merit,  and  accom- 
plishments, and  her  constant  attention  to  Dr.  Johnson, 
were  not  lost  upon  him.  She  happened  to  tell  him 
that  a  little  coffee-pot,  in  which  she  had  made  him 
coffee,  was  the  only  thing  she  could  call  her  own.  He 
turned  to  her  with  a  complacent  gallantry,  "  Don't 
say  so,  my  dear  ;  I  hope  you  don't  reckon  my  heart  as 
nothing." 

I  asked  him  if  it  was  true  as  reported,  that  he  had 
said  lately,  "  I  am  for  the  King  against  Fox  ;  but  I 
am  for  Fox  against  Pitt."  Johnson.  *'  Yes,  Sir  ;  the 
King  is  my  master  ;  but  I  do  not  know  Pitt  ;  and  Fox 
is  my  friend." 

"  Fox,  (added  he,)  is  a  most  extraordinary  man  ♦, 
here  is  a  man  (describing  him  in  strong  terms  of  ob- 
jection in  some  respects  according  as  he  apprehended, 
but  which  exalted  his  abilities  the  more,)  who  has 
divided  the  Kingdom  with  Caesar  ;  so  that  it  was  a 
doubt  whether  the  nation  should  be  ruled  by  thr 
sceptre  of  George  the  Third,  or  the  tongue  of  Fox." 

Dr.  Wall,  physician  at  Oxford,  drank  tea  with  us. 
Johnson  had  in  general  a  peculiar  pleasure  in  the  com- 
pany of  physicians,  which  was  certainly  not  abated  by 
the  conversation  of  this  learned,  ingenious,  and  pleasing 
gentleman.  Johnson  said,  "  It  is  wonderful  how  little 
good  Radcliffe's  travelling  fellowships  have  done.  1 
know  nothing  that  has  been  imported  by  them  ;  yet 


DR.   JOHNSON.  385 

many  additions  to  our  medical   knowledge  might  be  ^784. 
got  in  foreign  countries.      Inoculation,  for  instance,  ^i."^^ 
has  saved  more  lives  than  war  destroys :  and  the  cures   75.  * 
performed    by    the    Feruvian-bark    are    innumerable. 
But  it  is  in  vain  to  send  our  travelling  physicians  to 
France,  and  Italy,  and  Germany,  for  all  that  is  known 
there  is  known  here  :  Pd  send  them  out  of  Christen- 
dom ;   I'd  send  them  among  barbarous  nations." 

On  Friday,  June  11,  we  talked  at  breakfast,  of  forms 
of  prayer.  Johnson.  "  I  know  of  no  good  prayers  but 
those  in  the  '  Book  of  Common  Prayer."  Dr.  Ad- 
ams, (in  a  very  earnest  manner  :)  "  I  wish,  Sir,  you 
would  compose  some  family  prayers."  Johnson.  "  I 
will  not  compose  prayers  for  you.  Sir,  because  you  can 
do  it  for  yourself.  But  1  have  thought  of  getting  to- 
gether all  the  books  of  prayers  which  I  could,  selecting 
those  which  should  appear  to  me  the  best,  putting  out 
some,  inserting  others,  adding  some  prayers  of  my  own, 
and  prefixing  a  discourse  on  prayer."  We  all  now 
gathered  about  him,  and  two  or  three  of  us  at  a  time 
joined  in  pressing  him  to  execute  this  plan.  He  seem- 
ed to  be  a  little  displeased  at  the  manner  of  our  im- 
portunity, and  in  great  agitation  called  out,  "  Do  not 
talk  thus  of  what  is  so  aweful.  I  know  not  what  time 
God  will  allow  me  in  this  world.  There  are  many 
things  which  I  wish  to  do."  Some  of  us  persisted,  and 
Dr.  Adams  said,  "  I  never  was  more  serious  about  any 
thing  in  my  life."  Johnson.  "  Let  me  alone,  let  me 
alone  ;  I  am  overpowered."  And  then  he  put  his 
hands  before  his  face,  and  reclined  for  some  time  upoa 
the  table. 

I  mentioned  Jeremy  Taylor's  using,  in  his  forms  of 
prayer,  "  I  am  the  chief  of  sinners,"  and  other  such 
self-condemning  expressions.  "  Now,  (said  1)  this  can- 
not be  said  with  truth  by  every  man,  and  therefore  is 
improper  for  a  general  printed  form.  I  myself  cannot 
say  that  I  am  the  worst  of  men  ;  I  ivill  not  say  so. 
Johnson.  "  A  man  may  know,  that  physically,  that  iSj 
in  the  real  state  of  things,  he  is  not  the  worst  man  ;  but 
that  morally  he  may  be  so.  Law  observes,  that  every 
man  knows  something  worse  of  himself,  than  he  is  sure 

VOL.  III.  49 


660  THE    LIFE    OF 

1784.  of  in  others/  You  may  not  have  committed  such 
crimes  as  some  men  have  done  ;  but  you  do  not  know 
against  what  degree  of  light  they  have  sinned.  Besides, 
Sir,  '  the  chief  of  sinners'  is  a  mode  of  expression  for  '  I 
am  a  great  sinner/  So  St.  Paul,  speaking  of  our  Sa- 
viour's having  died  to  save  sinners,  says,  '  of  whom  I 
am  the  chief  :'  yet  he  certainly  did  not  think  himself 
so  bad  as  Judas  Iscariot."  Boswell.  "  But,  Sir,  Tay- 
lor means  it  literally,  for  he  founds  a  conceit  upon  it. 
When  praying  for  the  conversion  of  sinners,  and  of  him- 
self in  particular,  he  says,  'Lord,  thou  wilt  not  leave 
thy  c/iief  work  undone."  Johnson.  "  1  do  not  approve 
of  figurative  expressions  in  addressing  the  Supreme  Be- 
ing ;  and  I  never  use  them.  Taylor  gives  a  very  good 
advice  :  '  Never  lie  in  your  prayers  ;  never  confess  more 
than  you  really  believe  ;  never  promise  more  than  you 
mean  to  perform."  I  recollected  this  precept  in  his  '  Gol- 
den Grove  ;'  but  his  example  for  prayer  contradicts  his 
precept. 

Dr.  Johnson  and  I  went  in  Dr.  Adams's  coach  to 
dine  with  Mr.  Nowell,  Principal  of  St.  Mary  Hall,  at 
his  beautiful  villa  at  Iffley,  on  the  banks  of  the  Isi^, 
about  two  miles  from  Oxford.  While  we  were  upon 
the  road,  I  had  the  resolution  to  ask  Johnson  whether 
he  thought  that  the  roughness  of  his  manner  had  been 
an  advantage  or  not,  and  if  he  would  not  have  done 
more  good  if  he  had  been  more  gentle.  1  proceeded  to 
answer  myself  thus  :  "  Perhaps  it  has  been  of  advan- 
tage, as  it  has  given  w^eight  to  what  you  said  :  you  could 
not,  perhaps,  have  talked  with  such  authority  without 
it."  Johnson.  "  No,  Sir;  I  have  done  more  good  as  I 
am.  Obscenity  and  Impiety  have  always  been  repress- 
ed in  my  company."  Boswell.  "True,  Sir;  and  that 
is  more  than  can  be  said  of  every  Bishop.  Greater  lib- 
erties have  been  taken  in  the  presence  of  a  Bishop, 
though  a  very  good  man,  from  his  being  milder,  and 
therefore  not  commanding  such  awe.  Yet,  Sir ;  many 
people  who  might  have  been  benefited  by  your  conver- 
sation, have  been  frightened  away.  A  worthy  friend  of 
ours  has  told  me,  that  he  has  often  been  afraid  to  talk 
10  you."     Johnson.     "  Sir,  he  need  not  have  been 


DR.    JOHNSON.  387 

afraid,  if  he  had  any  thing  rational  to  say.'     If  he  had  '"84. 
not,  it  was  better  he  did  not  talk."  Sat! 

Dr.  Nowell  is  celebrated  for  having  preached  a  ser-  75. 
nion  before  the  House  of  Conamons,  on  the  30th  of 
January,  1772,  full  of  high  Tory  sentiments,  for  which 
he  was  thanked  as  usual,  and  printed  it  at  their  request  ; 
but,  in  the  midst  of  that  turbulence  and  faction  which 
disgraced  a  part  of  the  present  reign,  the  thanks  were 
afterwards  ordered  to  be  expunged.  This  strange  con- 
duct sufficiently  exposes  itself  ;  and  Dr.  Nowell  will 
ever  have  the  honour  which  is  due  to  a  lofty  friend  of 
our  monarchical  constitution.  Dr.  Johnson  said  to  me, 
"  Sir,  the  Court  will  be  very  much  to  blame,  if  he  is  not 
promoted."  I  told  this  to  Dr.  Nowell ;  and  asserting 
ray  humbler,  though  not  less  zealous  exertions  in  the 
same  cause,  I  suggested,  that  whatever  return  we  might 
receive,  we  should  still  have  the  consolation  of  beine 
like  Butler's  steady  and  generous  Royalist, 

"  True  as  the  dial  to  the  sun, 

"  Although  it  be  not  shone  upon." 

We  were  well  entertained  and  very  happy  at  Dr. 
NowelPs,  where  was  a  very  agreeable  company  ;  and  vve 
drank  "  Church  and  King"  after  dinner,  with  true 
Tory  cordiality. 

We  talked  of  a  certain  clergyman  of  extraordinary 
character,  who  by  exerting  his  talents  in  writing  on 
temporary  topicks,  and  displaying  uncommon  intrepid- 
ity, had  raised  himself  to  affluence.  I  maintained  that 
we  ought  not  to  be  indignant  at  his  success  ;  for  merit 
of  every  sort  was  entitled  to  reward.  Johnson.  "Sir, 
I  will  not  allow  this  man  to  have  merit.  No,  Sir ;  what 
he  has  is  rather  the  contrary  ;  I  will,  indeed,  allow  him 
courage,  and  on  this  account  we  so  far  give  him  credit. 
We  have  more  respect  for  a  man  who  robs  boldly  on 
the  highway,  than  for  a  fellow  who  jumps  out  of  a  ditch, 
and  knocks  you  down  behind  your  back.     Courage  is 

■  [The  words  of  Erasmus  (as  my  learned  friend  Dr.  Kearney  observes  to  me,) 
may  be  applied  to  Johnson  :  "  Qui  Lngenium,  sensum  dictionem  hominis  noverant, 
multis  non  oSenduntur,  quibus  graviter  erant  ofFendendi,  qui  hxc  ignorarunt." 


388  THE    LIFE    OF 

1784.  a  quality  so  necessary  for  maintaining  virtue,  that  it  is 
JEtat.  ^Ivv'ays  respected,  even  when  it  is  associated  with  vice." 
75.  1  censured  the  coarse  invectives  which  were  become 
fashionable  in  the  House  of  Commons,  and  said  that  if 
members  of  parliament  must  attack  each  other  person- 
ally in  the  heat  of  debate,  it  should  be  done  more  gen- 
teelly, Johnson.  "  No,  Sir ;  that  would  be  much  worse. 
Abuse  is  not  so  dangerous  when  there  is  no  vehicle  of 
wit  or  delicacy,  no  subtle  conveyance.  The  difference 
between  coarse  and  refined  abuse  is  as  the  ditFerence 
between  being  bruised  by  a  club,  and  wounded  by  a 
poisoned  arr'»w.'^ — 1  have  since  observed  his  position 
elegantly  expressed  by  Dr.  Young  : 

"  As  the  soft  plume  gives  swiftness  to  the  dart, 
"  Good  breeding  sends  the  satire  to  the  heart." 

On  Saturday,  June  12,  there  drank  tea  with  us  at 
Dr.  Adams's,  Mr,  John  Henderson,  student  of  Pem- 
broke-College, celebrated  for  his  wonderful  acquire- 
ments in  Alchymy,  Judicial  Astrology,  and  other 
abstruse  and  curious  learning  ;^  and  the  Reverend 
Herbert  Croft,  who,  I  am  afraid,  was  somewhat  morti- 
fied by  Dr.  Johnson's  nut  being  highly  pleased  with 
some  "  I'amily  Discourses,"  which  he  had  printed  ; 
they  were  in  too  fan)iliar  a  style  to  be  approved  of  by 
so  manly  a  mind,  I  have  no  note  of  this  evening's 
conversation,  except  a  single  fragment.  When  1  men- 
tioned Thomas  Lord  Lyttelion's  vision,  the  prediction 
of  the  time  of  his  death,  and  its  exact  fulfilment  ; — 
Johnson.  "  It  is  the  most  extraordinary  thing  that  has 
happened  in  my  day.  1  heard  it  with  my  own  ears, 
from  his  uncle,  Lord  Westcote,^  I  am  so  glad  to  have 
every  evidence  of  the  spiritual  world,  that  1  am  willing 
to  believe  it."  Dr.  Adams.  "  You  have  evidence 
enough  ;  good  evidence,  which  needs  not  such  sup- 
port."    Johnson.  "  1  like  to  have  more." 

Mr.  Henders(.)n,  with  whom  1  had  sauntered  in  the 
venerable  walks  of  Merton-College,  and  found  him  a 

*  See  an  account  of  him,  in  a  sermon  by  the  Reverend  Mr.  Agutter. 

'  [A  correct  account  of  Lord  Lyttelton's  supposed  Vision  may  be  found  in 
Nash's  "  History  of  Worcestersliire  ;" — Additions  and  Corrections,  p.  36.    M.] 


DR.   JOHNSON. 

very  learned  and  pious  man,  supped  with  us.  Dr.  i7B4. 
Johnson  surprised  him  not  a  little,  by  acknowledging  ^tTt! 
with  a  look  of  horrour,  that  he  was  much  oppressed  by  7ji. 
the  fear  of  death.  The  amiable  Dr.  Adams  suggested 
that  God  was  infinitely  good.  Johnson.  "  That  he  is 
infinitely  good,  as  far  as  the  perfection  of  his  nature 
will  allow,  I  certainly  believe  ;  but  it  is  necessary  for 
good  upon  the  whole,  that  individuals  should  be  pun- 
ished. As  to  an  individual^  therefore,  he  is  not  infi- 
nitely good  ;  and  as  I  cannot  be  sure  that  I  have  fulfilled 
the  conditions  on  which  salvation  is  granted,  I  am 
afraid  I  may  be  one  of  those  who  shall  be  damned.^' 
(looking  dismally.)  Dr.  Adams.  "  What  do  you 
mean  by  damned  !"  Johnson,  (passionately  and 
loudly)  "  Sent  to  Hell,  Sir,  and  punished  everlasting- 
ly." Dr.  Adams.  "  1  don't  believe  that  doctrine." 
Johnson.  "  Hold,  Sir,  do  you  believe  that  some  will 
be  punished  at  all  ?"  Dr.  Adams.  *'  Being  excluded 
from  Heaven  will  be  a  punishment  ;  yet  there  may  be 
no  great  positive  suffering."  Johnson.  "  Well,  Sir  ; 
but,  if  you  admit  any  degree  of  punishment,  there  is 
an  end  of  your  argument  for  infinite  goodness  simply 
considered  ;  for,  infinite  goodness  would  inflict  no 
punishment  whatever.  There  is  not  infinite  goodness 
physically  considered  ;  morally  there  is."  Boswell. 
"  But  may  not  a  man  attain  to  such  a  degree  of  hope 
as  not  to  be  uneasy  from  the  fear  of  death  ?"  John- 
son. "  A  man  may  have  such  a  degree  of  hope  as  to 
keep  him  quiet.  You  see  I  am  not  quiet,  from  the 
vehemence  with  which  I  talk  ;  but  I  do  not  despair." 
Mrs.  Adams.  "  You  seem.  Sir,  to  forget  the  merits  of 
our  Redeemer."  Johnson.  "  Madam,  I  do  not  forget 
the  merits  of  my  Redeemer  ;  but  my  Redeemer  has 
said  that  he  will  set  some  on  his  right  hand  and  some 
on  his  left." — He  was  in  gloomy  agitation,  and  said, 
"  V\\  have  no  more  on't." — If  what  has  now  been  stated 
should  be  urged  by  the  enemies  of  Christianity,  as  if  its 
influence  on  the  mind  were  not  benignant,  let  it  be 
remembered,  that  Johnson's  temperament  was  melan- 
choly, of  which  such  direful  apprehensions  of  futurity 
«re  often  a  common  effect.     We  shall  presently  see, 


390  THE    LIFE    OF 

^784.  that  when  he  approached  nearer  to  his  aweful  change, 
Sat^  his  mind  became  tranquil,  and  he  exhibited  as  much 
75.    fortitude  as  becomes  a  thinking  man  in  that  situation. 
From  the  subject  of  death  we  passed  to  discourse  of 
life,  whether  it  was  upon  the  whole  more  happy  or  mis- 
erable.      Johnson  was  decidedly  for  the  balance  of 
misery:''   in  confirmation  of  which  I  maintained,  that 

^  The  Reverend  Mr.  Ralph  Churton,  Fellow  of  Brazen-Nose  College,  Oxford, 
has  favoured  me  writh  the  foUowring  remarks  on  my  Work,  which  he  is  pleased 
to  say,  "  I  have  hitherto  extolled,  and  cordially  approve." 

"  The  chief  part  of  what  I  have  to  observe  is  contained  in  the  following  trans- 
cript from  a  letter  to  a  friend,  which,  with  his  concurrence,  I  copied  for  this 
purpose  ;  and,  whatever  may  be  the  merit  or  justness  of  the  remarks,  you  may 
be  sure  that  being  written  to  a  most  intimate  friend,  without  any  intention  that 
tliey  ever  should  go  further,  they  are  the  genuine  and  undisguised  sentiments  of 
the  writer : 

'  Jan.  6,  1792. 
*  Last  week,  I  was  reading  the  second  volume  of  Boswell's  Johnson,  with 
increasing  esteem  for  the  worthy  authour,  and  increasing  veneration  of  the  won- 
derful and  excellent  man  who  is  the  subject  of  it.  The  writer  throws  in,  now  and 
then,  very  properly  some  serious  religious  reflections ;  but  there  is  one  remark,  in  my 
mind  an  obvious  and  just  one,  which  I  think  he  has  not  made,  that  Johnson's 
"  morbid  melancholy,"  and  constitutional  infirmities,  were  intended  by  Provi- 
dence, like  St.  Paul's  thorn  in  the  flesh,  to  check  intellectual  conceit  and  arro- 
gance ;  which  the  consciousness  of  his  extraordinary  talents,  awake  as  he  was  to 
the  voice  of  praise,  might  otherwise  have  generated  in  a  very  culpable  degree. 
Another  observation  strikes  me,  that  in  consequence  of  the  same  natural  indispo- 
sition, and  habitual  sickliness,  (for  he  says  he  scarcely  passed  one  day  without 
pain  after  his  twentieth  year,)  he  considered  and  represented  human  life,  as  a 
scene  of  much  greater  misery  than  is  generally  experienced.  There  may  be  per- 
sons bowed  down  with  affliction  all  their  days  ;  and  there  are  those,  no  doubt, 
whose  iniquities  rob  them  of  rest  ;  but  neither  calamities  nor  crimes,  I  hope  and 
believe,  do  so  much  and  so  generally  abound,  as  to  justify  the  dark  picture  of  life 
which  Johnson's  imagination  designed,  and  his  strong  pencil  delineated.  This  I 
am  sure,  the  colouring  is  far  too  gloomy  for  what  I  have  experienced,  though  as 
far  as  I  can  remember,  I  have  had  more  sickness,  (I  do  not  say  more  severe,  but 
only  more  in  quantity,)  than  falls  to  the  lot  of  most  people.  But  then  daily  de- 
bility and  occasional  sickness  were  far  overbalanced  by  intervenient  days,  and, 
perhaps,  weeks  void  of  pain,  and  overflowing  with  comfort.  So  that  in  short, 
to  return  to  the  subject,  human  life,  as  far  as  I  can  perceive  from  experience  or 
observation,  is  not  that  state  of  constant  wretchedness  which  Johnson  always  in- 
sisted it  was :  which  misrepresentation,  (for  such  it  surely  is,)  his  Biographer  has 
not  corrected,  I  suppose,  because,  unhappily,  he  has  himselfa  large  portion  of  mel- 
ancholy in  his  constitution,  and  fancied  the  portrait  a  faithful  copy  of  life.' 

The  learned  writer  then  proceeds  thus  in  his  letter  to  me  : 

"  I  have  conversed  with  some  sensible  men  on  this  subject,  who  all  seem  to  en- 
tertain the  same  sentiments  respecting  life  with  those  which  are  expressed  or  im- 
plied in  the  foregoing  paragraph.  It  might  be  added  that  as  the  representation 
here  spoken  of,  appears  not  consistent  with  fact  and  experience,  so  neither  does 
it  seem  to  be  countenanced  by  Scripture.  There  is,  perhaps,  no  part  of  the  sacred 
\^olume  which  at  first  sight  promises  so  much  to  lend  its  sanction  to  these  dark 
and  desponding  notions  as  the  book  of  Ecclesiastes,  which  so  often,  and  so  em- 
phatically, proclaims  the  vanity  of  things  sublunary.  But  '  the  de^'gn  of  this 
whole  book,  (as  it  has  been  justly  observed,)  is  not  to  put  us  out  of  conceit  with 
life,  but  to  cure  our  vain  expectations  of  a  complete  and  perfect  happiness  in  this 


DR.   JOHNSON.  391 

no  man  would  choose  to  lead  over  again  the  life  which  1784. 
he  had  experienced.  Johnson  acceded  to  that  opinion  ^J^ 
in  the  strongest  terms.    This  is  an  enquiry  often  made;   75. 

world  ;  to  convince  us,  that  there  is  no  such  thing  to  be  found  in  mere  external 
enjoyments  ; — and  to  teach  us — to  seek  for  happiness  in  the  practice  of  virtue,  in 
the  knowledge  and  love  of  God,  and  in  the  hopes  of  a  better  life.  For  this  is  the 
application  of  all :  Let  us  hear,  &c.  xii.  13.  Not  only  his  duty,  but  his  happiness 
too  :  For  God,  &c.  ver.  14. — See'  Sherlock  on  Providence,'  p.  299. 

"  The  New  Testament  tells  us,  indeed,  and  most  truly,  that  '  sufficient  unto  the 
day  is  the  evil  thereof  ;'  and,  therefore,  wisely  forbids  us  to  increase  our  burdens 
by  forebodings  of  sorrows  ;  but  I  think  it  now  here  says  that  even  our  ordinary 
afflictions  are  not  consistent  with  a  very  considerable  degree  of  positive  comfort 
and  satisfaction.  And,  accordingly,  one  whose  sufferings  as  well  as  merits  were 
conspicuous,  assures  us,  that  in  proportion  '  as  the  sufferings  of  Christ  abounded 
in  them,  so  their  consolation  also  abounded  by  Christ.'  2  Cor.  i.  5.  It  is  needless  to 
cite,  as  indeed  it  would  be  endless  even  to  refer  to,  the  multitude  of  passages  in 
both  Testaments  holding  out,  in  the  strongest  language,  promises  of  blessings, 
even  in  this  world,  to  the  faithful  servants  of  God.  I  will  only  refer  to  St.  Luke 
xviii.  29,  30.  and  1  Tim.  iv.  8. 

"  Upon  the  whole,  setting  aside  instances  of  great  and  lasting  bodily  pain,  of 
minds  peculiarly  oppressed  by  melancholy,  and  of  severe  temporal  calamities, 
from  which  extraordinary  cases  we  surely  should  not  form  our  estimate  of  the 
general  tenour  and  complexion  of  life ;  excluding  these  from  the  account,  1  am 
convinced  that  as  well  the  gracious  constitution  of  things  which  Providence  has 
ordained,  as  the  declarations  of  Scripture  and  the  actual  experience  of  individuals, 
authorize  the  sincere  Christian  to  hope  that  his  humble  and  constant  endeavours  to 
perform  his  duty,  checquered  as  the  best  life  is  with  many  failings,  will  be  crowned 
with  a  greater  degree  of  present  peace,  serenity  and  comfort,  than  he  could  rea- 
sonably permit  himself  to  expect,  if  he  measured  his  views  and  judged  of  life  from 
the  opinion  of  Dr.  Johnson,  often  and  energetically  expressed  in  the  Memoirs  of 
him,  without  any  animadversion  or  censure  by  his  ingenious  Biographer.  If  He 
himself,  upon  reviewing  the  subject,  shall  see  the  matter  in  this  light,  he  will,  in 
an  octavo  edition,  which  is  eagerly  expected,  make  such  additional  remarks  or 
corrections  as  he  shall  judge  fit ;  lest  the  impressions  which  these  discouraging 
passages  may  leave  on  the  reader's  mind,  should  in  any  degree  hinder  what  oth- 
erwise the  whole  spirit  and  energj-  of  the  work  tends,  and,  I  hope,  successfully,  to 
promote, — pure  morality  and  true  religion." 

Though  I  have,  in  some  degree,  obviated  any  reflections  against  my  illustrious 
friend's  dark  views  of  life,  when  considering,  in  the  course  of  this  Work,  his 
"  Rambler"  and  his  "  Rasselas,"  I  am  obliged  to  Mr.  Churton  for  complying  with 
my  request  of  his  permission  to  insert  his  Remarks,  being  conscious  of  the  weight 
of  what  he  judiciously  suggests  as  to  the  melancholy  in  my  own  constitution. 
His  more  pleasing  views  of  life,  I  hope,  are  just.     Valeant,  quantum  valere  fossunt. 

Mr.  Churton^concludes  his  letter  to  me  in  these  words  :  "  Once,  and  only  once, 
I  had  the  satisfaction  of  seeing  your  illustrious  friend  ;  and  as  I  feel  a  particular 
regard  for  all  whom  he  distinguished  with  his  esteem  and  friendship,  so  I  derive 
much  pleasure  from  reflecting  that  I  once  beheld,  though  but  transiently  near  our 
College-gate,  one  whose  works  will  for  ever  delight  and  improve  the  world,  who 
was  a  sincere  and  zealous  son  of  the  Church  of  England,  an  honour  to  his  coimtry,  > 
and  an  ornament  to  human  nature." 

His  letter  was  accompanied  with  a  present  from  himself  of  his  "  Sermons  at  the 
Bampton  Lecture,"  and  from  his  friend.  Dr.  Townson,  the  venerable  Rector  of 
Malpas  in  Cheshire,  of  his  "  Discourse*  on  the  Gospels,"  together  with  the  follow- 
ing extract  of  a  letter  from  that  excellent  person,  who  is  now  gone  to  receive 
the  reward  of  his  labours  ;  "  Mr.  Boswell  is  not  only  very  entertaining  in  his 
works,  but  they  are  so  replete  with  moral  and  religious  sentiments,  without  an  in- 
stance, as  far  as  I  know,  of  a  contrary  tendency,  that  I  carmot  help  having  a  great 


39!^  THE    LIFE    OF 

1784.  and  its  being  a  subject  of  disquisition  is  a  proof  that 
^^  much  misery  presses  upon  human  feelings  ;  for  those 
76.  who  are  conscious  of  a  felicity  of  existence,  would 
never  hesitate  to  accept  of  a  repetition  of  it.  1  have  met 
with  very  few  who  would.  1  have  heard  Mr.  Burke 
make  use  of  a  very  ingenious  and  plausible  argument 
on  this  subject ;  "  Every  man  (said  he)  would  lead  his 
life  over  again  ;  for,  every  man  is  willing  to  go  on  and 
take  an  addition  to  his  life,  which,  as  he  grows  older, 
he  has  no  reason  to  think  will  be  better,  or  even  so 
good  as  what  has  preceded."  I  imagine,  however,  the 
truth  is,  that  there  is  a  deceitful  hope  that  the  next  part 
of  life  will  be  free  from  the  pains,  and  anxieties,  and 
sorrows,  which  we  have  already  felt.  We  are  for  wise 
purposes  "  Condemned  to  Hope's  delusive  mine,"  as 
Johnson  finely  says  ;  and  I  may  also  quote  the  cele- 
brated .lines  of  Dryden,  equally  philosophical  and 
poetical  : 

"  When  T  consider  life,  'tis  all  a  cheat, 

"  Yet  fool'd  with  hope,  men  favour  the  deceit ; 

"  Trust  on,  and  think  to-morrow  will  repay  ; 

"  To-morrow's  falser  than  the  former  day  ; 

*'  Lies  worse ;  and  while  it  says  we  shall  be  blest 

"  With  some  new  joys,  cuts  off  what  we  possest. 

"  Strange  cozenage   !    none  would  live  past  years 

again  ; 
"  Yet  all  hope  pleasure  in  what  yet  remain  ; 
"  And  from  the  dregs  of  life  think  to  receive, 
"  What  the  first  sprightly  running  could  not  give."' 

It  was  observed  to  Dr.  Johnson,  that  it  seemed 
strange  that  he,  who  has  so  often  delighte'd  his  com- 
pany by  his  lively  and  brilliant  conversation,  should 
say  he  was  miserable.  Johnson.  "  Alas  !  it  is  all 
outside  ;  1  may  be  cracking  my  joke,  and  cursing  the 

esteem  for  him  ;  and  if  you  think  such  a  trifle  as  a  copy  of  the  Discourses,  ex  don* 
ituthoris,  would  he  acceptable  to  him,  I  should  be  happy  to  give  him  this  small 
testimony  of  my  regard." 

Such  spontaneous  testimonies  of  approbation  from  such  men,  without  any  per- 
^nal  acquaintance  with  me,  are  truly  valuable  and  encouraging. 

"  AURENGZEBE,  Act.  iv.  Sc.  1. 


DR.    JOHNSON.  393 

sun.     Sun,  how  I  hate  thij  beams  /"     I  knew  not  well  1784. 
what  to  think  of  this  declaration  ;  whether  to  hold  it  aa  ^J^ 
a  genuine  picture  of  his  mind.'  or  as  the  effect  of  his    75.  * 
persuading   himself  contrary  to  fact,   that  the  position 
which  he  had  assumed  as  to  human  unhappiness,  was 
true.     We  may  apply  to  him  a  sentence  in  Mr.  Grev- 
ille's  "  Maxin^s,  Characters,  and  Reflections  ;"^  a  book 
which  is  entitled  to  much  more  praise  than  it  has  re- 
ceived :    "  Akistarchus   is  charming  :    how   full   of 
knowledge,  of  sense,  of  sentiment.     You  get  him  with 
difficulty   to  your  supper  ;  and  after  having  delighted 
every  body  and  himself  for  a  few  hours,   he  is  obliged 
to  return  home  ; — he  is  finishing  his  treatise,  to  prove 
that  unhappiness  is  the  portion  of  man.'' 

On  Sunday,  June  13,  our  philosopher  was  calm  at 
breakfast.  There  was  something  exceedingly  pleasing 
in  our  leading  a  College  life,  without  restraint,  and 
with  superiour  elegance,  in  consequence  of  our  living 
in  the  Master's  house,  and  having  the  company  of 
ladies.  Mrs.  Kennicot  related,  in  his  presence,  a  lively 
saying  of  Dr.  Johnson  to  Miss  Hannah  More,  who 
had  expressed  a  vt'onder  that  the  poet  who  had  written 
"  Paradise  Lost,"  should  write  such  poor  Sonnets  : — 
"  Milton,  Madam,  was  a  genius  that  could  cut  a  Colos- 
-sus  from  a  rock,  but  could  not  carve  heads  upon  cher- 
ry-stones." 

We  talked  of  the  casuistical  question,  "  Whether  it 
was  allowable  at  any  time  to  depart  from  Truth  /" 
Johnson.  "  The  general  rule  is,  that  Truth  should 
never  be  violated,  because  it  is  of  the  utmost  import- 
ance to  the  comfort  of  life,  that  we  should  have  a  full 
security  by  mutual  faith  ;  and  occasional  inconveni- 
ences should  be  willingly  suffered,  that  we  may  pre- 
serve it.  There  must,  however,  be  some  exceptions. 
If,  for  instance,  a  murderer  should  ask  you  which  way 
a  man  is  gone,  you  may  tell  him  what  is  not  true, 
because  you   are  under  a  previous  obligation  not  to 

'  Yet  there  is  no  doubt  that  a  man  may  appear  very  gay  in  company,  who  is 
sad  at  heart.  His  merriment  is  hke  the  sound  of  drums  and  trumpets  in  a  battle, 
to  drown  the  groans  of  the  wounded  and  dying. 

'  Page  139. 

VOL.  III.  50 


.'^94'  THE    LIFE    OF 

1784.  betray  a  man  to  a  murderer."  Boswell.  "Supposing 
Sat^  the  person  who  wrote  Junius  were  asked  whether  he 
75.  was  the  authour,  might  he  deny  it  !"  Johnson.  "  I 
don't  know  what  to  say  to  this.  If  you  were  sure  that 
he  wrote  Junius^  would  you,  if  he  denied  it,  think  as 
well  of  him  afterwards  ?  Yet  it  may  be  urged,  that 
what  a  man  has  no  right  to  ask,  you  may  refuse  to 
communicate  ;  and  there  is  no  other  effectual  mode  of 
preserving  a  secret  and  an  important  secret,  the  dis- 
covery of  which  may  be  very  hurtful  to  you,  but  a  flat 
denial  ;  for  if  you  are  silent,  or  hesitate,  or  evade,  it 
will  be  held  equivalent  to  a  confession.  But  stay,  Sir, 
here  is  another  case.  Supposing  the  authour  had  told 
me  confidentially  that  he  had  written  Junius^  and  I 
were  asked  if  he  had,  I  should  hold  myself  at  liberty 
to  deny  it,  as  being  under  a  previous  promise,  express 
or  implied,  to  conceal  it.  Now  what  1  ought  to  do 
for  the  authour,  may  I  not  do  for  myself  \  But  I  deny 
the  lawfulness  of  telling  a  lie  to  a  sick  man,  for  fear  of 
alarming  him.  You  have  no  business  with  conse- 
quences ;  you  are  to  tell  the  truth.  Besides,  you  are 
not  sure,  what  effect  your  telling  him  that  he  is  in  danger 
may  have.  It  may  bring  his  distemper  to  a  crisis,  and 
that  may  cure  him.  Of  all  lying,  1  have  the  greatest 
abhorrence  of  this,  because  1  believe  it  has  been  fre- 
quently practised  on  myself." 

1  cannot  help  thinking  that  there  is  much  weight  in 
the  opinion  of  those  who  have  held,  that  truth,  as  an 
eternal  and  immutable  principle,  ought,  upon  no  ac- 
count whatever,  to  be  violated,  from  supposed  previous 
or  superiour  obligations,  of  which  every  man  being  to 
judge  for  himself,  there  is  great  danger  that  we  too 
often,  from  partial  motives,  persuade  ourselves  that 
they  exist  ;  and  probably  whatever  extraordinary  in- 
stances may  sometimes  occur,  where  some  evil  may  be 
prevented  by  violating  this  noble  principle,  it  would 
be  found  that  human  happiness  would,  upon  the  whole, 
be  more  perfect,  were  Truth  universally  preserved. 

In  the  notes  to  the  "  Dunciad,"  we  find  the  follow- 
ing verses,  addressed  to  Pope  :^ 

3  The  annotator  calls  tham  "  amiable  versos." 


DR.   JOHNSON.  395 

"  While  malice,  Pope,  denies  thy  page  •784. 

"  Its  own  celestial  fire  ;  ^Sat! 

"  While  criticks,  and  while  bards  in  rage,  75.* 

"  Admiring,  won't  admire  : 

"  While  wayward  pens  thy  worth  assail, 

"  And  envious  tongues  decry  ; 

"  These  times,  though  many  a  friend  bewail, 

"  These  times  bewail  not  I. 

"  But  when  the  world's  loud  praise  is  thine, 

"  And  spleen  no  more  shall  blame  : 

"  When  with  thy  Homer  thou  shalt  shine 

"  In  one  established  fame  ! 

^'  When  none  shall  rail,  and  every  lay 
"  Devote  a  wreath  to  thee  ; 
"  That  day  (for  come  it  will)  that  day 
"  Shall  I  lament  to  see." 

It  is  surely  not  a  little  remarkable,  that  they  should 
appear  without  a  name.  Miss  Seward,  knowing  Dr. 
Johnson's  almost  universal  and  minute  literary  informa- 
tion, signified  a  desire  that  I  should  ask  him  who  was 
the  authour.  He  was  prompt  with  his  answer  : — 
"  Why,  Sir,  they  were  written  by  one  Lewis,  who  was 
either  under-master  or  an  usher  of  Westminster-shcool, 
and  published  a  Miscellany,  in  which  "  Grongar  Hill" 
first  came  out."*     Johnson   praised  them  highly,  and 

"  [Lewis's  Verses  addressed  to  Pope,  (as  Mr.  Bindley  suggests  to  me,)  were  first 
published  in  a  collection  of  Pieces  in  verse  and  prose  on  occasion  of  "  the  Dunciad," 
8vo.  1732.  They  are  there  called  an  Epigram. — "  Grongar  Hill,"  the  same  gen- 
tleman observes,  was  first  printed  in  Savage's  Miscellanies,  as  an  Ode,  (it  is  singular, 
that  Johnson  should  not  have  recollected  this,)  and  was  reprinted  in  the  same  year, 
(1726,)  in  Lewis's  Miscellany,  in  the  form  it  now  bears. 

In  that  Mi»cellany,  (as  the  Reverend  Mr.  Blakeway  observes  to  me,)  "  the  beau- 
tiful poem,  •  Away,  let  nought  to  love  displeasing,'  &c.  (reprinted  in  Percy's 
Reliques,  vol.  i.  b.  iii.  No.  14,)  first  appeared." 

Lewis  was  authour  of  "  Philip  of  Macedon,"  a  tragedy,  published  in  1 727,  and 
dedicated  to  Pope  ;  and  in  1730,  he  pubhshed  a  second  volume  of  miscellaneous 
poems. 

Ai  Dr.  Johnson  settled  in  London  not  long  after  the  Verses  addressed  to  Pope 
first  appeared,  he  probably  then  obtained  some  information  concerning  their  au- 
thour, David  Lewis,  whom  he  has  described  as  an  Usher  of  Westminster-school  : 
yet  the  Dean  of  Westminster,  who  has  been  pleased  at  my  request  to  make  some 
enquiry  on  this  subject,  has  not  found  any  vestige  of  his  having  ever  been  em- 
ployed in  this  situation. — A  late  writer  ("  Environs  of  London,"  iv.  171,)  supposed 
that  the  following  inscription  in  the  church-yard  of  the  church  of  Low  Leyton  iu 
Essex,  was  intended  to  commemorate  this  poet : 


396  THE    LIFE    OF 

1784.  repeated  them  with  a  noble  animation.     In  the  twelfth 

^^  line,  instead  of  "  one  establish'd   fame,"   he  repeated 

75.   "one   unclouded   flame,"   which   he   thought  was  the 

reading  in  former  editions  ;  but   1  believe  was   a   flash 

of  his  own  genius.     It  is  much  more  poetical  than  the 

other. 

On  Monday,  June  14,  and  Tuesday,  15,  Dr.  John- 
son and  I  dined,  on  one  of  them,  1  forget  which,  with 
Mr.  Mickle,  translator  of  the  "  Lusiad,"  at  Wheatley, 
a  very  pretty  country  place  a  few  miles  from  Oxford  ; 
and  on  the  other  with  Dr.  W'etherell,  Master  of  Uni- 
versity-College. From  Dr.  Wetherell's  he  went  to 
visit  Mr.  Sackville  Parker,  the  bookseller;  and  when 
he  returned  to  us,  gave  the  following  account  of  his 
visit,  saying,  "  I  have  been  to  see  my  old  friend.  Sack. 
Parker  ;  I  find  he  has  married  his  maid  ;  he  has  done 
right.  She  had  lived  with  him  many  years  in  great 
confidence,  and  they  had  mingled  minds ;  1  do  not 
think  he  could  have  found  any  wife  that  would  have 
made  him  so  happy.  The  woman  was  very  attentive 
and  civil  to  me;  she  pressed  me  to  fix  a  day  for  dining 
with  them,  and  to  say  what  I  liked,  and  she  would  be 
sure  to  get  it  for  me.  Poor  Sack  !  He  is  very  ill, 
indeed.^  We  parted  as  never  to  meet  again.  It  has 
quite  broke  me  down."  This  pathetick  narrative  was 
strangely  diversified  with  the  grave  and  earnest  defence 
of  a  man's  having  married  his  maid.  1  could  not  but 
feel  it  as  in  some  degree  ludicrous. 

In  the  morning  of  Tuesday,  June  15,  while  we  sat 
at  Dr.  Adams's,  we  talked  of  a  printed  letter  from  the 

"  Sacred  to  the  memory  of  David  Lewis,  Esq.  who  died  the  8th  Day  of  April, 
1760,  aged  77  years  ;  a  great  favourite  of  the  Muses,  as  his  many  excellent  pieces 
in  poetry  sufficiently  testify. 

"  Inspired  verse  may  on  this  marble  live,  • 

"  But  can  no  honour  to  thy  ashes  give." 

Also  Mary,  the  wife  of  the  above-named  David  Lewis,  fourth  daughter 

of  Newdigate  Owsley,  Esq.  who  departed  this  life  the  10th  of  October,  1774,  aged 
90  years. 

But  it  appears  to  me  improbable  that  this  monument  was  erected  for  the  authour 
of  the  Verses  to  Pope,  and  of  the  Tragedy  already  mentioned  ;  the  language  both 
of  the  dedication  prefixed  to  that  piece,  and  of  the  dedication  addressed  to  the 
Earl  of  Shaftesbury,  and  prefixed  to  the  Aliscellanies,  1 730,  denoting  a  person  who 
moved  in  a  lower  sphere  than  this  Essex  'Squire  seems  to  have  done.     M.] 

i  [He  died  at  Oxford  in  his  89th  year,  Dec.  10,  1796.     M.] 


DR.    JOHNSON.  397 

Reverend  Herbert  Croft,  to  a  young  gentleman  who  '784. 
had  been  his  pupil,  in  which  he  advised  him  to  read  to  ^^^ 
the  end  of  whatever  books  he  should  begin  to  read.  75.  * 
Johnson.  "This  is  surely  a  strange  advice;  you  may 
as  well  resolve  that  whatever  men  you  happen  to  get 
acquainted  with,  you  are  to  keep  to  them  for  life.  A 
book  may  be  good  for  nothing  ;  or  there  may  be  only 
one  thing  in  it  worth  knowing  ;  are  we  to  read  it  all 
through  !  These  Voyages,  (pointing  to  the  three  large 
volumes  of  '  Voyages  to  the  South  Sea,'  which  were 
just  come  out)  w/io  will  read  them  through  I  A  man 
had  better  work  his  way  before  the  mast,  than  read 
them  through  ;  they  will  be  eaten  by  rats  and  mice, 
before  they  are  read  through.  There  can  be  little 
entertainment  in  such  books  ;  one  set  of  Savages  is  like 
another."  Boswell.  "  1  do  not  think  the  people  of 
Otaheite  can  be  reckoned  Savages."  Johnson.  "  Don't 
cant  in  defence  of  Savages."  Boswell.  "They  have 
the  art  of  navigation." — Johnson.  "  A  dog  or  a  cat  can 
swim."  Boswell.  "They  carve  very  ingeniously." 
Johnson.  "  A  cat  can  scratch,  and  a  child  with  a  nail 
can  scratch."  1  perceived  this  was  none  of  the  mollia 
tempora  fundi ;  so  desisted. 

Upon  his  mentioning  that  when  he  came  to  College 
he  wrote  his  first  exercise  twice  over,  but  never  did  so 
afterwards  ;  Miss  Adams.  "  I  suppose,  Sir,  you  could 
not  make  them  better?"  Johnson.  "  Yes,  Madam,  to 
be  sure,  I  could  make  them  better.  Thought  is  better 
than  no  thought."  Miss  Adams.  "  Do  you  think. 
Sir,  you  could  make  your  Ramblers  better !"  Johnson. 
"  Certainly  1  could."  Boswell.  "  I'll  lay  a  bet.  Sir, 
you  cannot."  Johnson.  "  But  I  will.  Sir,  if  1  choose. 
1  shall  make  the  best  of  them  you  shall  pick  out,  bet- 
ter."— Boswell.  "  But  you  may  add  to  them.  I  will 
not  allow  of  that."  Johnson.  "  Nay,  Sir,  there  are 
three  ways  of  making  them  better; — putting  out, — ad- 
ding,— or  correcting." 

During  our  visit  at  Oxford,  the  following  conversa- 
tion passed  between  him  and  me  on  the  subject  of  my 
trying  my  fortune  at  the  English  bar.  Having  asked, 
whether  a  very   extensive   acquaintance   in    London, 


598  THE    LIFE    OF 

1784.  which  was  very  valuable,  and  of  great  advantage  to  a 
^^^  man  at  large,  might  not  be  prejudicial  to  a  lawyer,  by 
75.  preventing  him  from  giving  sufficient  attention  to  his 
business? — Johnson.  "Sir,  vou  will  attend  to  business, 
as  business  lays  hold  of  you.  When  not  actually  em- 
ployed, you  may  see  your  friends  as  much  as  you  do 
now.  You  may  dine  at  a  Club  every  day,  and  sup  with 
one  of  the  members  every  night ;  and  you  may  be  as 
much  at  publick  places  as  one  who  has  seen  them  all 
would  wish  to  be.  But  you  must  take  care  to  attend 
constantly  in  Westminster  Hall  ;  both  to  mind  your 
business,  as  it  is  almost  all  learnt  there,  (for  nobody 
reads  now,)  and  to  shew  that  you  want  to  have  business. 
And  you  must  not  be  too  often  seen  at  publick  places, 
that  competitors  may  not  have  it  to  say,  '  He  is  always 
at  the  Playhouse  or  at  Ranelagh,  and  never  to  be  found 
at  his  chambers.^  And,  Sir,  there  must  be  a  kind  of 
solemnity  in  the  manner  of  a  professional  man.  I  have 
nothing  particular  to  say  to  you  on  the  subject.  All 
this  I  should  say  to  any  one  ;  I  should  have  said  it  to 
Lord  Thurlow  twenty  years  ago." 

The  Profession  may  probably  think  this  represent- 
ation of  what  is  required  in  a  Barrister  who  would  hope 
for  success,  to  be  much  too  indulgent ;  but  certain  it  is, 
that  as 

"  The  wits  of  Charles  found  easier  ways  to  fame," 

some  of  the  lawyers  of  this  age  who  have  risen  high, 
have  by  no  means  thought  it  absolutely  necessary  to 
submit  to  that  long  and  painful  course  of  study  which 
a  Plowden,  a  Coke,  and  a  Hale,  considered  as  requisite. 
My  respected  friend,  Mr.  Langton,  has  shewn  me  in 
the  hand-writing  of  his  grandfather,  a  curious  account 
of  a  conversation  which  he  had  with  Lord  Chief  Justice 
Hale,  in  which  that  great  man  tells  him,  "  That  for 
two  years  after  he  came  to  the  inn  of  court,  he  studied 
sixteen  hours  a  day  ;  however,  (his  Lordship  added) 
that  by  this  intense  application  he  almost  brought  him- 
self to  his  grave,  though  he  were  of  a  very  strong  con- 
stitution, and  after  reduced  himself  to  eight  hours  ;  but 
that  he  would  not  advise  any  body  to  so  much  ;  that  he 


DR.    JOHNSON.  399 

thought  six  hours  a  day,  with  attention  and  constancy,  1784. 
was  sufficient  ;  that  a  man  must  use  his  body  as  he  S^ 
would  his  horse,  and  his  stomach  ;  not  tire  him  at  once,  75,  * 
but  rise  with  an  appetite/' 

On  Wednesday,  June  19,  Dr.  Johnson  and  I  return- 
ed to  London  ;  he  was  not  well  to-day,  and  said  very 
little,  employing  himself  chiefly  in  reading  Euripides. 
He  expressed  some  displeasure  at  me,  for  not  observ- 
ing sufficiently  the  various  objects  upon  the  road.  "  If 
1  had  your  eyes,  Sir,  (said  he)  1  should  count  the  pas- 
sengers." It  was  wonderful  how  accurate  his  observa- 
tions of  visual  objects  was,  notwithstanding  his  imper- 
fect eyesight,  owing  to  a  habit  of  attention. — That  he 
was  much  satisfied  with  the  respect  paid  to  him  at  Dr. 
Adams's  is  thus  attested  by  himself:  "  I  returned  last 
night  from  Oxford,  after  a  fortnight's  abode  with  Dr. 
Adams,  who  treated  me  as  well  as  I  could  expect  or 
wish  ;  and  he  that  contents  a  sick  man,  a  man  whom 
it  is  impossible  to  please,  has  surely  done  his  part 
well."« 

After  his  return  to  London  from  this  excursion,  I 
saw  him  frequently,  but  have  few  memorandums ;  I 
shall  therefore  here  insert  some  particulars  which  I 
collected  at  various  times. 

The  Reverend  Mr.  Astle,  of  Ashbourne,  in  Derby- 
shire, brother  to  the  learned  and  ingenious  Thomas 
Astle,  Esq.  was  from  his  early  years  known  to  Dr.  John- 
son, who  obligingly  advised  him  as  to  his  studies,  and 
recommended  to  him  the  following  books,  of  which  a 
list  which  he  has  been  pleased  to  communicate,  lies 
before  me,  in  Johnson's  own  hand-writing  : — Universal 
History  (ancient.) — RolUji's  Ancient  History — Puffen" 
dorf^s  Introduction  to  History. —  Vertot^s  History  of 
Knights  of  Malta. — Vertofs  Revolution  of  Portugal. — 
Vertot^s  Revolution  of  Sweden. — Cartels  History  of 
England. — Present  State  of  England. — Geographical 
Gramma? . — Prideaux\  Connection. — Nelson's  Feasts 
and  Fas  s. — Duty  of  Man. — Gentleman's  Religion. — 
Clarendj7i\s    History. — Watts'    Improvement    of  the 

"  Letters  to  Mrs.  Thrale,"  Vol.  II,  p.  S72. 


400  THE    LIFE    OF 

1784.  Mind. — Watts^  Logick. — Nature  Displatjed. — Loivth^s 
^^^j  English  Grammar. — Blackivell  on  the  Classicks. — 
75,  S  her  lock's  Sermons. — Burnetts  Life  of  Hale. — Dupin's 
Historu  of  the  Church. — Skuckford's  Connections. — 
Law's  Serious  Call. —  Walton's  Complete  Angler. — 
Sandifs's  Travels. — Sprat's  Historij  of  the  Roiful  Soci- 
etij. — Ru;j;land's  Gazetteer. — Goldsmith's  Roman  His- 
toru.— Some  Commentaries  on  the  Bible. 

It  having  been  mentioned  to  Dr.  Johnson  that  a  gen- 
tleman who  had  a  son  whom  he  imagined  to  have  an 
extreme  degree  of  timidity,  resolved  to  send  him  to  a 
publick  school,  that  he  might  acquire  confidence; — 
"Sir,  (said  Johnson,)  this  is  a  preposterous  expedient 
for  removing  his  infirmity  ;  such  a  disposition  should 
be  cultivated  in  the  shade.  Placing  him  at  a  publick 
school  is  forcing  an  owl  upon  day." 

Speaking  of  a  gentleman  whose  house  was  much 
frequented  by  low  compvmy  ;  "  Rags,  Sir,  (said  he,) 
will  aKvays  make  their  appearance,  where  they  have  a 
right  to  do  it." 

Of  the  same  gentleman's  mode  of  living,  he  said, 
"  Sir,  the  servants,  instead  of  doina^  what  they  are  bid, 
stand  round  the  table  in  idle  clusters,  gaping  upon  the 
guests  ;  and  seem  as  unfit  to  attend  a  company,  as  to 
steer  a  man  of  war." 

A  dull  country  magistrate  gave  Johnson  a  long 
tedious  account  of  his  exercising  his  criminal  jurisdic- 
tion, the  result  of  which  was  his  having  sentenced  four 
convicts  to  transportation.  Johnson,  in  an  agony  of 
impatience  to  get  rid  of  such  a  companion,  exclaimed, 
"  I  heartily  wish,  Sir,  that  I  were  a  fifth." 

Johnson  was  present  when  a  tragedy  was  read,  in 
which  there  occurred  this  line  : 

"  Who  rules  o'er  freemen  should  himself  be  free." 

The  company  having  admired  it  much,    "  I  cannot 
agree  with  you  (said  Johnson  :)   It  might  as  well  be  said, 

"  Who  drives  fat  oxen  should  himself  be  fat." 

He  was  pleased  with  the  kindness  of  Mr.  Cator, 
who  was  joined  with  him  in  Mr.  Thrale's  important 


DR.   JOHNSON.  401 

trust,  and  thus   describes  him  :^      "There   is  much '784. 
good   in   his   character,  and   much    usefuhiess    in    his  '^[^ 
knowledge."     He  found  a  cordial  solace  at  that  gentle-   75. 
man's  seat  at   Beckenham,  in  Kent,  which   is  indeed 
one  of  the   finest  places  at   which  I  ever  was  a  guest ; 
and  where  1  find  more  and  more  a  hosjDitable  welcome. 

Johnson  seldom  encouraged  general  censure  of  any 
profession  ;  but  he  was  willing  to  allow  a  due  share 
of  merit  to  the  various  departments  necessary  in  civil- 
ized life.  In  a  splenetick,  sarcastical,  or  jocular  frame 
of  mind,  however,  he  would  sometimes  utter  a  pointed 
saying  of  that  nature.  One  instance  has  been  men- 
tioned,^ where  he  gave  a  sudden  satirical  stroke  to  the 
character  of  an  attonieij.  The  too  indiscriminate  ad- 
mission to  that  employment,  which  requires  both 
abilities  and  integrity,  has  given  rise  to  injurious  re- 
flections, which  are  totally  inapplicable  to  many  very 
respectable  men  who  exercise  it  with  reputation  and 
honour. 

Johnson  having  argued  for  some  time  with  a  perti- 
nacious gentleman  ;  his  opponent,  who  had  talked  in 
a  very  puzzling  manner,  happened  to  say,  "  1  don't 
understand  you,  Sir  ;"  upon  which  Johnson  observed, 
"  Sir,  I  have  found  you  an  argument  ;  but  1  am  not 
obliged  to  find  you  an  understanding." 

Talking  to  me  of  Horry  Walpole,  (as  Horace  late 
Earl  of  Orford  was  often  called,)  Johnson  allowed  that 
he  got  together  a  great  many  curious  little  things, 
and  told  them  in  an  elegant  manner.  Mr.  Walpole 
thought  Johnson  a  more  amiable  character  after  read- 
ing his  Letters  to  Mrs.  Thrale  :  but  never  was  one  of 
the  true  admirers  of  that  great  man.^  W^e  may  sup- 
pose a  prejudice  conceived,  if  he  ever  heard  Johnson's 
account  to  Sir  George  Staunton,  that  when  he  made 
the  speeches  in  parliament  for  the  Gentleman's  Maga- 
zine, "  he  always  took  care  to  put  Sir  Robert  Walpole 
in  the  wrong,  and  to  say  every  thing  he  could  against 

»  "  Letters  to  Mrs.  Thrale,"  Vol.  II.  p.  284. 

^  See  Vol.  1.  p.  486. 

'  [In  his  Posthumous  Works,  he  has  spoken  of  Johnson  in  the  most  contempt- 
uous manner !     M.] 

VOL.    III.  51 


402  THE    LIFE    OF 

1784.  the  electorate  of  Hanover."  The  celebrated  Heroick 
^J^  Epistle,  in  which  Johnson  is  satyrically  introduced,  has 
75. '  been  ascribed  both  to  Mr.  Walpole  and  Mr.  Mason. 
One  day  at  Mr.  Courtenay's,  when  a  gentleman  ex- 
pressed his  opinion  that  there  was  more  energy  in  that 
poem  than  could  be  expected  from  Mr.  Walpole  ;  Mr. 
Warton,  the  late  Laureat.  observed,  "  It  may  have 
been  written  by  Walpole,  and  buckrantCd  by  Mason."' 

He  disapproved  of  Lord  Hailes,  for  having  modern- 
ised the  language  of  the  ever-memorable  John  Hales 
of  Eton,  in  an  edition  which  his  Lordship  published 
of  that  writer's  works.  "  An  authour's  language.  Sir, 
(said  he,)  is  a  characteristical  part  of  his  composition, 
and  is  also  characteristical  of  the  age  in  which  he 
writes.  Besides,  Sir,  when  the  language  is  changed 
we  are  not  sure  that  the  sense  is  the  same.  No,  Sir  : 
1  am  sorry  Lord  Hailes  has  done  this." 

Here  it  may  be  observed,  that  his  frequent  use  of 
the  expression,  No^  Sir,  was  not  always  to  intimate 
contradiction  ;  for  he  would  say  so  when  he  was  about 
to  enforce  an  affirmative  proposition  which  had  not 
been  denied,  as  in  the  instance  last  mentioned.  I 
used  to  consider  it  as  a  kind  of  flag  of  defiance  :  as  if 
he  had  said,  "  Any  argument  you  may  offer  against 
this,  is  not  just.  No,  Sir,  it  is  not."  It  was  like  Fal- 
stafF^s  "  1  deny  your  Major." 

Sir  Joshua  Reynolds  having  said  that  he  took  the 
altitude  of  a  man's  taste  by  his  stories  and  his  wit,  and 
of  his  understanding  by  the  remarks  which  he  repeated; 
being  always  sure  that  he  must  be  a  weak  man,  who 
quotes  common  things  with  an  emphasis  as  if  they 
were  oracles  ; — Johnson  agreed  with  him  ;  and  Sir 
Joshua  having  also  observed  that  the  real  character  of 
a  man  was  found  out  by  his  amusements, — Johnson 
added,  "  Yes,  Sir  ;  no  man  is  a  hypocrite  in  his  pleas- 
ures." 

1  have  mentioned  Johnson's  general  aversion  to  pun. 
He  once,  however,  endured  one  of  mine.  When  we 
were  talking  of  a  numerous  company  in  which  he  had 

rit  is  now  ri804)  inttvn,  that  the  "  Heroick  Epistle"  was  written  by  Mason. 

M.} 


DR.    JOHNSON.  403 

distinguished  himself  highly,  I  said,  "  Sir,  you  were  a  i7i^4. 
Cod   surrounded  by  smelts.     Is  not  this  enough  for  Jj^ 
you  ?  at  a  time  too  when   you  were  not  fishing  for  a   75. 
compliment  ]"     He  laughed  at  this  with  a  complacent 
approbation.     Old   Mr.  Sheridan   observed,   upon  my 
mentioning  it  to  him,  "  He  liked  your  compliment  so 
well,   he  was  willing  to  take  it  with  pun  sauce"     For 
my  own  part  I  think  no  innocent  species  of  wit  or 
pleasantry  should  be  suppressed  :  and  that  a  good  pun 
may  be  admitted  among  the  smaller  excellencies  of 
lively  conversation. 

Had  Johnson  treated  at  large  De  Claris  Oratoribus^ 
he  might  have  given  us  an  admirable  work.  When 
the  Duke  of  Bedford  attacked  the  ministry  as  vehe- 
mently as  he  could,  for  having  taken  upon  them  to 
extend  the  time  for  the  importation  of  corn,  Lord 
Chatham,  in  his  first  speech  in  the  House  of  Lords, 
boldly  avowed  himself  to  be  an  adviser  of  that  meas- 
ure. "  My  colleagues,  (said  he,)  as  1  was  confined  by 
indisposition,  did  me  the  signal  honour  of  coming  to 
the  bed-side  of  a  sick  man,  to  ask  his  opinion.  But, 
had  they  not  thus  condescended,  I  should  have  taken  up 
my  bed  and  walked,  in  order  to  have  delivered  that 
opinion  at  the  Council-Board."  Mr.  Langton,  who 
was  present,  mentioned  this  to  Johnson,  who  observ- 
ed, "  Now,  Sir,  we  see  that  he  took  these  words  as  he 
found  them  ;  without  considering,  that  though  the  ex- 
pression in  Scripture,  take  up  thij  bed  and  walk,  strictly 
suited  the  instance  of  the  sick  man  restored  to  health 
and  strength,  who  would  of  course  be  supposed  to  carry 
his  bed  with  him,  it  could  not  be  proper  in  the  case  of 
a  man  who  was  lying  in  a  state  of  feebleness,  and  who 
certainly  would  not  add  to  the  difficulty  of  moving  at 
all,  that  of  carrying  his  bed." 

When  I  pointed  out  to  him  in  the  news-paper  one 
of  Mr.  Grattan's  animated  and  glowing  speeches,  in 
favour  of  the  freedom  of  Ireland,  in  which  this  ex- 
pression occurred  (I  know  not  if  accurately  taken  :) 
"  We  will  persevere,  till  there  is  not  one  link  of  the 
English  chain  left  to  clank  upon  the  rags  of  the  mean- 


404  THE    LIFE    OP 

1784.  est  beg.^ar  in   Ireland  ;" — "  Nay,  Sir,  (said  Johnson,) 
SaT  <^^"'^  y^^  perceive  that  one  link  cannot  clank  ?" 

75.  Mrs.  rhrale  ha^^  published,*  as  Johnson's,  a  kind  of 
parody  or  counterpart  f)t"  a  fine  poetical  passage  in  one 
of  Mr.  Burke's  speeches  on  American  Taxation.  It  is 
vigorously  but  somewhat  coarsely  executed  ;  and  1  arn 
inclined  to  suppose,  is  not  quite  correctly  exhibited. 
1  h(^pe  he  did  not  use  the  words  "  vile  agoits^'  for  the 
Americans  in  the  House  f)f  Parliament ;  and  if  he  did 
so,  in  an  extempore  effusion,  1  wish  the  lady  had  not 
committed  it  to  writing. 

Mr.  Burke  uniformly  shewed  Johnson  the  greatest 
respect ;  and  when  Mr.  Townshend,  now  Lord  Sydney, 
at  a  period  when  he  was  conspicuous  in  opposition, 
threw  out  some  reflection  in  parliament  upon  the  grant 
of  a  pension  to  a  man  of  such  political  principles  as 
Johnson  ;  Mr.  Burke,  though  then  of  the  same  party 
with  Mr.  Townshend,  stood  warmly  forth  in  defence 
of  his  friend,  to  whom,  he  justly  observed,  the  pension 
was  granted  solely  on  account  of  his  eminent  literary 
merit.  1  am  well  assured,  that  Mr.  Townshend's  attack 
upon  Johnson  was  the  occasion  of  his  "  hitching  in  a 
rhyme  ;"  for,  that  in  the  original  copy  of  Goldsmith's 
character  of  Mr.  Burke,  in  his  "  Retaliation,''  another 
person's  name  stood  in  the  couplet  where  Mr.  Towns- 
hend is  now  introduced  : 

"  Though  fraught   with  all  learning  kept  straining 

his  throat, 
"  To   persuade    Tommy    TownsJiend  to  lend  him  a 

vote." 

It  may  be  worth  remarking,  among  the  minutice  of 
my  collection,  that  Johnson  was  once  drawn  to  serve 
in  the  militia,  the  Trained  Bands  of  the  City  of  London, 
and  that  Mr.  Rackstrow,  of  the  Museum  in  Fleet-street, 
was  his  Colonel.  It  may  be  believed  he  did  not  serve 
in  person  ;  but  the  idea,  with  all  its  circumstances,  is 
certainly  laughable.     He  uj)on  that  occasion  provided 

'  "  Anecdotes,"  p.  43. 


DR.    JOHNSON.  405 

himself  with  a  musket,  and   with  a  sword  and  belt,  i784. 
which  I  have  seen  hanging  in  his  closet.  Mtai. 

He  was  very  constant  to  those  whom  he  once  em-  75. 
ployed,  if  they  gave  him  no  reason  to  be  displeased. 
W  hen  somebody  talked  of  being  inijDosed  on  in  the  pur- 
chase of  tea  and  sugar,  and  such  articles  :  "  That  will 
not  be  the  case,  (said  he,)  if  you  go  to  a  stutelij  ahop^  as 
1  always  do.  In  such  a  shop  it  is  not  worth  their  while 
to  take  a  petty  advantage." 

An  authour  of  most  anxious  and  restless  vanity  being- 
mentioned,  "Sir,  (said  he,)  there  is  not  a  young  sapling 
upon  Parnassus  more  severely  blown  about  by  every 
wind  of  criticism  than  that  poor  fellow." 

The  difference,  he  observed,  between  a  well-bred 
and  an  ill-bred  man  is  this  :  "  One  immediately  attracts 
your  liking,  the  other  your  aversion.  You  love  the  one 
till  you  fiud  reason  to  hate  him  ;  you  hate  the  other 
till  you  find  reason  to  love  him." 

The  wife  of  one  of  his  acquaintance  had  fraudulently 
made  a  purse  for  herself  out  of  her  husband's  fortune. 
Feeling  a  proper  compunction  in  her  last  moments,  she 
confessed  how  much  she  had  secreted  ;  but  before  she 
could  tell  where  it  was  placed,  she  was  seized  with  a 
convulsive  fit  and  expired.  Her  husband  said,  he  was 
more  hurt  by  her  want  of  confidence  in  him,  than  by 
the  loss  of  his  money.  "  I  told  him,  (said  Johnson,) 
that  he  should  console  himself:  iov  perhaps  \\\q  money 
might  he  founds  and  he  was  sure  that  his  wife  was^owe." 

A  foppish  physician  once  reminded  Johnson  of  his 
having  been  in  company  with  him  on  a  former  occa- 
sion, "  1  do  not  remember  it.  Sir?"  The  physician  still 
insisted ;  adding  that  he  that  day  wore  so  fine  a  coat 
that  it  must  have  attracted  his  notice.  "  Sir,  (said 
Johnson,)  had  you  been  dipt  in  Pactolus,  I  should  not 
have  noticed  you." 

He  seemed  to  take  a  pleasure  in  speaking  in  his  own 
style  ;  for  when  he  had  carelessly  missed  it,  he  would 
repeat  the  thought  translated  into  it.  Talking  of  the 
Comedy  of  "  The  Rehearsal,"  he  said,  "  It  has  not  wit 
enough  to  keep  it  sweet."  This  was  easy  ; — he  there- 
fore caught  himself,  and  pronounced  a  more  round  sen- 


406  THE    LIFE    OF 

1784.  tence ;  "  It  has  not  vitality  enough  to  preserve  it  from 
^^  putrefaction." 

75,  He  censured  a  writer  of  entertaining  Travels  for  as- 
suming a  feigned  character,  saying,  (in  his  sense  of  the 
word,)  "  He  carries  out  one  lye  ;  we  know  not  how 
many  he  brings  back."  At  another  time,  talking  of  the 
same  person,  he  observed,  "  Sir,  your  assent  to  a  man 
whom  you  have  never  known  to  falsify,  is  a  debt  :  but 
after  you  have  known  a  man  to  falsify,  your  assent  to 
him  then  is  a  favour." 

Though  he  had  no  taste  for  painting,  he  admired 
much  the  manner  in  which  Sir  Joshua  Reynolds  treat- 
ed of  his  art,  in  his  "  Discourses  to  the  Royal  Acade- 
my." He  observed  one  day  of  a  passage  in  them,  "  I 
think  I  might  as  well  have  said  this  myself:"  and  once 
when  Mr.  Langton  was  sitting  by  him,  he  read  one  of 
them  very  eagerly,  and  expressed  himself  thus  :  "  Very 
well.  Master  Reynolds;  very  well,  indeed.  But  it  will 
not  be  understood." 

When  I  observed  to  him  that  Painting  was  so  far  in- 
feriour  to  Poetry,  that  the  story  or  even  emblem  which 
it  communicates  must  be  previously  known,  and  men- 
tioned as  a  natural  and  laughable  instance  of  this,  that 
a  httle  Miss  on  seeing  a  picture  of  Justice  with  the 
scales,  had  exclaimed  to  me,  "  See,  there's  a  woman 
selling  sweetmeats  ;"  he  said,  "  Painting,  Sir,  can  illus- 
trate,  but  cannot  inform." 

No  man  was  more  ready  to  make  an  apology  when 
he  had  censured  unjustly,  than  Johnson.  VV^hen  a 
proof-sheet  of  one  of  his  works  was  brought  to  him,  he 
found  fault  with  the  mode  in  which  a  part  of  it  was  ar- 
ranged, refused  to  read  it,  and  in  a  passion  desired  that 
the  compositor 3  might  be  sent  to  him.  The  compos- 
itor was  Mr.  Manning,  a  decent  sensible  man,  who  had 
composed  about  one  half  of  his  "  Dictionary,"  when  in 
Mr.  Strahan's  printing-house  ;  and  a  great  part  of  his 
"  Lives  of  the  Poets,"  when  in  that  of  Mr.  Nichols  ; 
and  who  (in   his  seventy-seventh  year)  when   in    Mr. 

5  Compositor  in  the  Printing-house  means,  the  person  who  adjusts  the  types  in 
the  order  in  which  they  are  to  stand  for  printing  ;  aad  arranges  what  is  called  the 
firm,  from  which  an  impression  is  taken. 


DR.   JOHNSON.  407 

Baldwin's  printing-house,  composed  a  part  of  the  first  1784. 
edition  of  this  work  concerning  him.     By  producing  ^tat* 
the  manuscript,   he  at   once  satisfied  Dr.  Johnson  that   75.  ' 
he  was  not  to  blame.     Upon  which  Johnson  candidly 
and  earnestly  said  to  him,  "  Mr.  Compositor,  1  ask  your 
pardon  ;  Mr.  Compositor,  I  ask  your  pardon,  again  and 
again." 

His  generous  humanity  to  the  miserable  was  almost 
beyond  example.  The  following  instance  is  well  at- 
tested :  Coming  home  late  one  night,  he  found  a  poor 
woman  lying  in  the  street,  so  much  exhausted  that  she 
could  not  walk  ;  he  took  her  upon  his  back,  and  car- 
ried her  to  his  house,  where  he  discovered  that  she 
was  one  of  those  wretched  females  who  had  fallen  into 
the  lowest  state  of  vice,  poverty,  and  disease.  Instead 
of  harshly  upbraiding  her,  he  had  her  taken  care  of 
with  all  tenderness  for  a  long  time,  at  a  considerable 
cxpence,  till  she  was  restored  to  health,  and  endeav- 
oured to  put  her  into  a  virtuous  way  of  living.* 

He  thought  Mr.  Caleb  Whitefoord  singularly  happy 
in  hitting  on  the  signature  of  Pupijrius  Cur.<>or,  to  his 
ingenious  and  diverting  cross  readings  of  the  newspa- 
pers ;  it  being  a  real  name  of  an  ancient  Roman,  and 
clearly  expressive  of  the  thing  done  in  this  lively 
conceit. 

He  once  in  his  life  was  known  to  have  uttered  what 
is  called  a  bull :  Sir  Joshua  Reynolds,  when  they  were 
riding  together  in  Devonshire,  complained  that  he  had 
a  very  bad  horse,  for  that  even  when  going  down  hill 
he  moved  slowly  step  by  step.  "  Ay  (said  Johnson,) 
and  when  he  goes  up  hill,  he  stands  still." 

He  had  a  great  aversion  to  gesticulating  in  company. 
He  called  once  to  a  gentleman  who  offended  him  in 
that  point,  "  Don't  attkudenise."  And  when  another 
gentleman  thought  he  was  giving  additional  force  to 
what  he  uttered,  by  expressive  movements  of  his  hands, 
Johnson  fairly  seized  them,  and  held  them  down. 

An  authour  of  considerable  eminence  having  engross- 

"  The  circumstance  therefore  alluded  to  in  Mr/Courtenay's  "  Poetical  Character" 
of  him  is  strictly  true.  My  informer  was  Mrs.  Desmoulins,  who  lived  many  year* 
in  Dr.  Johnson's  house. 


408  THE    LIFE    OF 

1784.  ed  a  good  share  of  the  conversation  in  the  company  of 
^'^  Johnson,  and  having  said  nothing  but  what  was  trifling 
75.  '  and  insignificant ;  Johnson  wlien  he  was  gone,  observ- 
ed to  us,  "  It  is  wonderful  what  a  difference  there  some- 
times is  between  a  man's  powers  of  writing  and  of 
talking.  ******  writes  with  great  spirit,  but  is  a  poor 
talker;  had  he  held  his  tongue,  we  might  have  sup- 
posed him  to  have  been  restrained  by  modesty  ;  but 
he  has  spoken  a  great  deal  to-day  ;  and  have  you  heard 
what  stuff  it  was." 

A  gentleman  having  said  that  a  conge  cPelire  has  not, 
perhaps,  the  force  of  a  command,  but  may  be  consid- 
ered only  as  a  strong  recommendation  ; — "  Sir,  (replied 
Johnson,  who  overheard  him,)  it  is  such  a  recommen- 
dation, as  if  1  should  throw  you  out  of  a  two  pair  of 
stairs  window,  and  recommend  to  you  to  fall  soft. "^ 

Mr.  Steevens,  who  passed  many  a  social  hour  with 
him  during  their  long  acquaintance,  which  commenced 
when  they  both  lived  in  the  Temple,  has  preserved  a 
good  number  of  particulars  concerning  him,  most  of 
which  are  to  be  found  in  the  department  of  Apoph- 
thegms, &c.  in  the  Collection  of  "  Johnson's  Works." 
But  he  has  been  pleased  to  favour  me  with  the  follow- 
ing, which  are  original : 

"  One  evening,  previous  to  the  trial  of  Baretti,  a  con- 
sultation of  his  friends  was  held  at  the  house  of  Mr. 
Cox,  the  solicitor,  in  Southampton-buildings,  Chance- 
ry-lane. Among  others  present  were,  Mr.  Burke  and 
Dr.  Johnson,  who  differed  in  sentiments  concerning 
the  tendency  of  some  part  of  the  defence  the  prisoner 
was  to  make.  When  the  meeting  was  over,  Mr.  Stee- 
vens observed,  that  the  question  between  him  and  his 
friend  had  been  agitated  with  rather  too  much  warmth. 
'  It  may  be  so,  Sir,  (replind  the  Doctor,)  for  Burke 
and  I  should  have  been  of  one  opinion,  if  we  had  had 
no  audience." 

"  Dr.  Johnson  once  assumed  a  character  in  which 
perhaps  even  Mr.   Boswell   never  saw  him.     His  curi- 

'  This  has  been  printed  in  other  publications, "  fall  to  the  ground."  But  Johnson 
kimself  gave  me  the  true  expression  which  he  had  used  as  above  ;  meaning  that 
the  recommendation  left  as  little  choice  in  the  one  case  as  the  other. 


DR.   JOHNSON.  409 

osity  having  been  excited  by  the  praises  bestowed  on  ^84. 
the  celebrated  Torre's  fireworks  at  Marybone-Gardens,  ^J^ 
he  desired  Mr.  Steevens  to  accompany  him  thither.  75.  * 
The  evening  had  proved  showery  ;  and  soon  after  the 
few  people  present  were  assembled,  publick  notice  was 
given,  that  the  conductors  to  the  wheels,  suns,  stars, 
&c.  were  so  thoroughly  water-snaked,  that  it  was  im- 
possible any  part  of  the  exhibition  should  be  made. 
'  This  is  a  mere  excuse,  (says  the  Doctor,)  to  save  their 
crackers  for  a  more  profitable  company.  Let  us  both 
hold  up  our  sticks,  and  threaten  to  break  those  colour- 
ed lamps  that  surround  the  Orchestra,  and  we  shall 
soon  have  our  wishes  gratified.  The  core  of  the  fire- 
works cannot  be  injured  ;  let  the  different  pieces  be 
touched  in  their  respective  centers,  and  they  will  do 
their  offices  as  well  as  ever.' — Some  young  men  who 
overheard  him,  immediately  began  the  violence  he  had 
recommended,  and  an  attempt  was  speedily  made  to 
fire  some  of  the  wheels  which  appeared  to  have  re- 
ceived the  smallest  damage  ;  but  to  little  purpose  were 
they  lighted,  for  most  of  them  completely  failed. — 
The  authour  of  '  The  Rambler/  however,  may  be  con- 
sidered on  this  occasion,  as  the  ringleader  of  a  success- 
ful riot,  though  not  as  a  skilful  pyrotechnist." 

"  It  has  been  supposed  that  Dr.  Johnson,  so  far  as 
fashion  was  concerned,  was  careless  of  his  appearance 
in  publick.  But  this  is  not  altogether  true,  as  the  fol- 
lowing slight  instance  may  show  : — Goldsmith's  last 
Comedy  was  to  be  represented  during  some  court- 
mourning  ;  and  ^Ir.  Steevens  appointed  to  call  on  Dr. 
Johnson,  and  carry  him  to  the  tavern  where  he  was  to 
dine  with  others  of  the  Poet's  friends.  The  Doctor 
was  ready  dressed,  but  in  coloured  clothes  ;  yet  being 
told  that  he  would  find  every  one  else  in  black,  receiv- 
ed the  intelligence  with  a  profusion  of  thanks,  hastened 
to  change  his  attire,  all  the  while  repeating  his  grati- 
tude for  the  information  that  had  saved  him  from  an 
appearance  so  improper  in  the  front  row  of  a  front  box. 
'  I  would  not  (added  he,)  for  ten  pounds,  have  seemed 
■?o  retrograde  to  any  general  observance." 

VOL.  in.  .52 


410  THE    LIFE    OF 

1784.  «  He  would  sometimes  found  his  dislikes  on  very 
^j^  slender  circumst.mces.  ila|>pening  one  day  to  men- 
75.  tion  Mr.  Flexman,  a  Dissenting  Minister,  witli  some 
compliment  to  his  exact  memory  in  chronological 
matters  ;  the  Doctor  replied,  '  Let  me  hear  no  more 
of  him,  wSir.  That  is  tiie  fellow  who  made  the  Index 
to  my  Ramblers,  and  set  down  the  name  of  Milton 
thus  : — Milton,  Mr.  John." 

Mr.  Steevens  adds  this  testimony  :  "  It  is  unfortu- 
nate, however,  for  Johnson,  that  his  particularities  and 
frailties  can  be  more  distinctly  traced  than  his  good 
and  amiable  exertions.  (Jould  the  many  bounties  he 
studiously  concealed,  the  many  acts  of  humanity  he 
performed  in  private,  be  displayed  with  equal  circum- 
stantiality, his  defects  would  be  so  far  lost  in  the  blaze 
of  his  virtues,  that  the  latter  only  would  be  regarded." 
Though  from  my  very  high  admiration  of  Johnson, 
1  have  wondered  that  he  was  not  courted  by  all  the 
great  and  all  the  eminent  persons  of  his  time,  it  ought 
fairly  to  be  considered,  that  no  man  of  humble  birth, 
who  lived  entirely  by  literature,  in  short  no  aulhour 
by  profession,  ever  rose  in  this  country  into  that  per- 
sonal notice  which  he  did.  in  the  course  of  this 
w^ork  a  numerous  variety  of  names  lYas  been  mention- 
ed, to  which  many  might  be  added.  I  cannot  omit 
Lord  and  Lady  Lucan,  at  whose  house  he  often  en- 
joyed all  that  an  elegant  table  and  the  best  comjjany 
can  contribute  to  happiness  ;  he  found  hospitality 
united  with  extraordinary  accomplishments,  and  em- 
bellished with  charms  of  which  no  man  could  be  in- 
sensible. 

On  Tuesday,  June  22,  I  dined  with  him  at  The 
Litf!rary  Club*  the  last  time  of  his  being  in  that 
respectable  society.  The  other  members  present  were 
the  Bishop  of  St.  Asaph,  Lord  Eliot,  Lord  Palmerston, 
Dr.  Fordyce,  and  Mr.  Malone.  He  looked  ill  ;  but 
had  such  a  manly  fortitude,  that  he  did  not  trouble  the 
company  with  melancholy  complaints.  They  all  shew- 
ed evident  marks  of  kind  concern  about  him,  with 
which  he  was  much  pleased,  and  he  exerted  himself 
to  be  as  entertaining  as  his  indisposition  allowed  him. 


DR.   JOHNSON.  411 

The  anxiety  of  his  friends  to  preserve  so  estimable  a  '784. 
life,  as  long  as  human  means  might  be  supposed  to  ^^ 
have  influence,  made  them  plan  for  him  a  retreat  from  75." 
the  severity  of  a  British  winter,  to  the  mild  climate  of 
Italy.  This  scheme  was  at  last  brought  to  a  serious 
resolution  at  General  Paoli's,  where  I  had  often  talked 
of  it.  One  essential  matter,  however,  I  understood 
was  necessary  to  be  previously  settled,  which  was  ob- 
taining such  an  addition  to  his  income,  as  would  be 
sufficient  to  enable  him  to  defray  the  expence  in  a 
manner  becoming  the  first  literary  character  of  a  great 
nation,  and,  independent  of  all  his  other  merits,  the 
Authourof  The  Dictionary  of  the  English  Lan- 
guage. The  person  to  whom  I  above  all  others 
thought  I  should  apply  to  negociate  this  business,  was 
the  Lord  Chancellor,^  because  I  knew  that  he  highly 
valued  Johnson,  and  that  Johnson  highly  valued  his 
Lordship  ;  so  that  it  was  no  degradation  of  my  illus- 
trious friend  to  solicit  for  him  the  favour  of  such  a 
man.  1  have  mentioned  what  Johnson  said  of  him  to 
me  when  he  was  at  the  bar  ;  and  after  his  Lordship 
was  advanced  to  the  seals,  he  said  of  him,  "  I  would 
prepare  myself  for  no  man  in  England  but  Lord  fhur- 
low."  When  I  afii  to  meet  with  him,  "  I  should  wish 
to  know  a  day  before."  How  he  would  have  prepared 
himself,  1  cannot  conjecture.  Would  he  have  selected 
certain  topirks,  and  considered  them  in  every  view,  so 
as  to  be  in  readiness  to  argue  them  at  all  points  ?  and 
what  may  we  suppose  those  topicks  to  have  been  ?  I 
once  started  the  curious  enquiry  to  the  great  man  who 
was  the  subject  of  this  compliment  :  he  smiled,  but 
did  not  pursue  it. 

1  first  consulted  with  Sir  Joshua  Reynolds,  who  per- 
fectly coincided  in  opinion  with  me  ;  and  1  therefore, 
though  personally  very  little  known  to  his  Lordship, 
wrote  to  him,^    stating  the   case,   and   requesting  his 

'  Edward  Lord  Thurlow,  [who  died  September  11,  1806.     M.] 
"  It  is  strange  that  Sir  John  Hawkins  should  have  related  that  the  apphcation 
was  made  by  Sir  Joshua  Reynolds,  when  he  could  so  easily  have  been  informed  of 
the  truth  by  enquiring  of  Sir  Joshua.    Sir  John's  carelessness  to  ascertain  facts  is 
very  remarkable. 


412  THE    LIFE    OF 

1784.  good  offices  for  Dr.  Johnson.     I  mentioned  that  I  was 
^^J^  obliged  to  set  out  for  Scotland  early  in  the  following 
75.   week,  so  that  if  his   Lordship  should   have   any  com- 
mands for   me  as  to  this   pious  negociation,  he  would 
be  pleased  to  send  them  before  that  time  ;  otherwise 
Sir  Joshua  Reynolds  would  give  all  attention  to  it. 

This  application  was  made  not  only  without  any 
suggestion  on  the  part  of  Johnson  himself,  but  was 
utterly  unknown  to  him,  nor  had  he  the  smallest  sus- 
picion of  it.  Any  insinuations,  therefore,  which  since 
his  death  have  been  thrown  out,  as  if  he  had  stooped 
to  ask  what  was  siiperfluous,  are  without  any  founda- 
tion. But,  had  he  asked  it,  it  would  not  have  been 
superfluous  ;  for  though  the  money  he  had  saved 
proved  to  be  more  than  his  friends  imagined,  or  than  1 
believe  he  himself,  in  his  carelessness  concerning 
worldly  matters,  knew  it  to  be,  had  he  travelled  upon 
the  Continent,  an  augmentation  of  his  income  would 
by  no  means  have  been  unnecessary. 

On  Wednesday,  June  93,- 1  visited  him  in  the  morn- 
ing, after  having  been  present  at  the  shocking  sight  of 
fifteen  men  executed  before  Newgate.  I  said  to  him, 
I  was  sure  that  human  life  was  not  machinery,  that  is 
to  say,  a  chain  of  fatality  planned  and  directed  by  the 
Supreme  Being,  as  it  had  in  it  so  much  wickedness 
and  misery,  so  many  instances  of  both,  as  that  by  which 
my  mind  was  now  clouded. 

Were  it  machinery,  it  would  be  better  than  it  is  in 
these  respects,  though  less  noble,  as  not  being  a  sys- 
tem of  moral  government.  He  agreed  with  me  now, 
as  he  always  did,  upon  the  great  question  of  the  liberty 
of  the  human  will,  which  has  been  in  all  ages  perplex- 
ed with  so  much  sophistry,  "  But,  Sir,  as  to  the  doc- 
trine of  Necessity,  no  man  believes  it.  If  a  man  should 
give  me  arguments  that  1  do  not  see,  though  I  could 
not  answer  them,  should  I  believe  that  1  do  not  see  ?" 
It  will  be  observed,  that  Johnson  at  all  times  made  the 
just  distinction  between  doctrines  contrary  to  reason, 
and  doctrines  above  reason. 

Talking  of  the  religious  discipline  proper  for  unhappy 
convicts,  he  said,  "Sir,  one  of  our  regular  clergy  wiM 


DR.    JOHNSON.  413 

probably   not  impress   their  minds  sufficiently  :    they  ^784. 
should  be  attended  by  a  Methodist  preacher  ;^  or  a  Po-  ^^^ 
pish  priest."     Let  me  however  observe,  in  justice  to  the    75. 
Reverend  Mr.  Vilette,  who  has  been  Ordinary  of  New- 
gate for  no  less  than  eighteen  years,   in  the  course  of 
which    he   has   attended   many   hundreds  of  wretched 
criminals,   that   his  earnest  and   humane  exhortations 
have  been  very  effectual.     His  extraordinary  diligence 
is    highly    praise-worthy,    and    merits  a   distinguished 
reward.  5' 

On  Thursday,  June  24,  I  dined  with  him  at  Mr. 
Dilly's,  where  were  the  Rev.  Mr.  (now  Dr.)  Knox, 
master  of  Tunbridge-school,  Mr.  Smith,  Vicar  of  Southill, 
Dr.  Beattie,  Mr.  Jpinkerton,  authour  of  various  literary 
peformances,  and  the  Rev.  Dr.  Mayo.  At  my  desire 
old  Mr.  I^heridan  was  invited,  as  1  was  earnest  to  have 
Johnson  and  him  brought  together  again  by  chance, 
that  a  reconcilation  might  be  effected.  Mr.  Sheridan 
happened  to  come  early,  and  having  learnt  that  Dr. 
Johnson  was  to  be  there,  went  away  ;  so  1  found,  with 
sincere  regret,  that  my  friendly  intentions  were  hope- 
less. I  recollect  nothing  that  passed  this  day,  except 
Johnson's  quickness,  who,  when  Dr.  Beattie  observed, 
as  something  remarkable  which  had  happened  to  him, 
that  he  had  chanced  to  see  both  No.  1,  and  No.  1000, 
of  the  hacknev-coaches,  the  first  and  the  last  ;  "  Why, 
Sir,  (said  Johnson,)  there  is  an  equal  chance  for  one's 
seeing  those  two  numbers  as  any  other  two."  He  was 
clearly  right ;  yet  the  seeing  of  the  two  extremes,  each 
of  which  is  in  some  degree  more  conspicuous  than  the 
rest,  could  not  but  strike  one  in  a  stronger  manner  than 
the  sight  of  any  other  two  numbers. — Though  1  have 
neglected  to  preserve  his  conversation,  it  was  perhaps 
at  this  interview  that  Dr.  Knox  formed  the  notion  of  it 
which  he  has  exhibited  in  his  "Winter  Evenings." 

On  Friday,  June  25,  I  dined  with  him  at  General 
Paoli's,  where,  he  says  in  one  of  his  letters  to  Mrs. 

'  A  friend  of  mine  happened  to  be  passing  by  2ifeld  congregation  in  the  environs 
cf  London,  when  a  Methodist  preacher  quoted  this  passage  with  triumph. 

'  I  trust  that  The  City  of  London,  no  w  happily  in  unison  with  The  Court, 
TviU  have  the  justice  and  generosity  to  obtain  preferment  for  this  Reverend  Gen- 
T.eman.  now  a  worthy  old  servant  of  that  magnificent  Corporation. 


il^  THE    LIFE    OF 

1784.  Thrale,  "  I  love  to  dine."  There  was  a  variety  of  dish- 
2^  es  much  to  his  taste,  of  all  which  he  seemed  to  me  to 
75.  eat  so  much,  that  1  was  afraid  he  might  be  hurt  by  it ; 
and  1  whispered  to  the  General  my  fear,  and  begged  he 
might  not  press  him.  "Alas!  (said  the  General,)  see 
how  very  ill  he  looks  ;  he  can  live  but  a  very  short 
time.  Would  you  refuse  any  slight  gratifications  to  a 
man  under  sentence  of  death  I  There  is  a  humane 
custom  in  Italy,  by  which  persons  in  that  melancholy 
situation  are  indulged  with  having  whatever  they  like 
best  to  eat  and  drink,  even  with  expensive  delicacies." 
I  shewed  him  some  verses  on  Lichfield  bv  Miss 
Seward,  which  I  had  that  day  received  from  her,  and 
had  the  pleasure  to  hear  hmi  approve  of  them.  He 
confirmed  to  me  the  truth  of  a  high  compliment  which 
I  had  been  told  he  had  paid  to  that  lady,  when  she 
mentioned  to  him  "  The  Colombiade,"  an  epick  poem, 
by  Madame  du  Boccage  : — "  Madam,  there  is  not  any 
thing  equal  to  your  description  of  the  sea  round  the 
North  Pole,  in  your  Ode  on  the  death  of  Captain 
Cooke." 

On  Sunday,  June  27,  I  found  him  rather  better.  I 
mentioned  to  him  a  young  man  who  was  going  to 
Jamaica  with  his  wife  and  children,  in  expectation  of 
being  provided  for  by  two  of  her  brothers  settled  in 
that  island,  one  a  clergyman,  and  the  other  a  physician. 
Johnson.  "  It  is  a  wild  scheme.  Sir,  unless  he  has  a 
positive  and  deliberate  invitation.  There  was  a  poor 
girl,  who  used  to  come  about  me,  who  had  a  cousin  in 
Barbadoes,  that,  in  a  letter  to  her,  expressed  a  wish  she 
should  come  out  to  that  Island,  and  expatiated  on  the 
comforts  and  happiness  of  her  situation.  The  poor  girl 
went  out  :  her  cousin  was  much  surprized,  and  asked 
her  how  she  could  think  of  coming  !  'Because,  (said 
she,)  you  invited  me.' — '  Not  1,'  answered  the  cousin. 
The  letter  was  then  produced.  '  1  see  it  is  true,  (said 
she,)  that  1  did  invite  you  :  but  I  did  not  think  you 
would  come.'  They  lodged  her  in  an  out-house, 
where  she  passed  her  time  miserably  ;  and  as  soon  as 
she  had  an  opportunity  she  returned  to  England.  Al- 
ways tell  this,  when  you  hear  of  people  going  abroad 


DR.    JOHNSON.  415 

to  relations,  upon  a  notion  of  being  well  received.  In  1784. 
the  case  which  you  mention,  it  is  probable  the  clergy-  ^J^ 
man  spends  all  he  gets,  and  the  physician  does  not  75.  ' 
know  how  much  he  is  to  get." 

We  this  day  dined  at  Sir  Joshua  Reynolds's,  with 
General  Paoli,  Lord  Eliot,  (formerly  Mr.  Eliot,  of  Port 
Eliot,)  Dr.  Beattie,  and  some  other  company.  Talking 
of  Lord  Chesterfield  ; — Johnson.  "  His  manner  was 
exquisitely  elegant,  and  he  had  more  knowledge  than 
I  expected."  Boswell.  "  Did  you  find.  Sir,  his  con- 
versation to  be  of  a  superiour  style."  Johnson.  "  Sir, 
in  the  conversation  which  1  had  with  him  1  had  the 
best  right  to  superiority,  for  it  was  upon  philology  and 
literature."  Lord  Eliot,  who  had  travelled  at  the  same 
time  with  Mr.  Stanhope,  Lord  Chesterfield's  natural 
son,  justly  observed,  that  it  was  strange  that  a  man 
who  shewed  he  had  so  much  affection  for  his  son  as 
Lord  Chesterfield  did,  by  writing  so  many  long  and 
anxious  letters  to  him,  almost  all  of  them  w^hen  he  was 
Secretary  of  State,  which  certainly  was  a  proof  of  great 
goodness  of  disposition,  should  endeavour  to  make  his 
son  a  rascal.  IJis  Lordship  told  us,  that  Foote  had 
intended  to  bring  on  the  stage  a  father  who  had  thus 
tutored  his  son,  and  to  shew  the  son  an  honest  man  to 
every  one  else,  but  practising  his  father's  maxims  upon 
him,  and  cheating  him.  Johnson.  "  1  am  much  pleas- 
ed with  this  design  ;  but  I  think  there  was  no  occasion 
to  make  the  son  honest  at  all.  No  ;  he  should  be  a 
consummate  rogue  :  the  contrast  between  honesty  and 
knavery  would  be  the  stronger.  It  should  be  contrived 
so  that  the  father  should  be  the  only  sufferer  by  the 
son's  villany,  and  thus  there  would  be  poetical  prej- 
udice. 

He  put  Lord  Eliot  in  mind  of  Dr.  Walter  Harte.  "  I 
know,  (said  he,)  Harte  was  your  Lordship's  tutor,  and 
he  was  also  tutor  to  the  Peterborough  family.  Pray, 
my  Lord,  do  you  recollect  any  particulars  that  he  told 
you  of  Lord  Peterborough  1  He  is  a  favourite  of  mine, 
and  is  not  enough  known  ;  his  character  has  been  only 
ventilated  in  party  pamphlets,"  Lord  Eliot  said,  if  Dr. 
Johnson  would  be  so  good  as  to  ask  him  any  questions, 


416  THE    LIFE    OF 

J784.  lie  would  tell  what  he  could  recollect.  Accordingly 
^[^sorae  things  were  mentioned.  "  But,  (said  his  Lord- 
75.  ship,)  the  best  account  of  Lord  Peterborough  that  I  have 
happened  to  meet  with,  is  in,  '  Captain  Carleton's  Me- 
moirs.' Carleton  was  descended  of  an  ancestor  who 
had  distinguished  himself  at  the  siege  of  Derry.  He 
was  an  officer;  and,  what  was  rare  at  that  time,  had 
some  knowledge  of  engineering."  Johnson  said,  he  had 
never  heard  of  the  book.  Lord  Eliot  had  it  at  Port  El- 
iot ;  but,  after  a  good  deal  of  enquiry,  procured  a  copy 
in  London,  and  sent  it  to  Johnson,  who  told  Sir  Joshua 
Reynolds  that  he  was  going  to  bed  when  it  came,  but 
was  so  much  pleased  with  it,  that  he  sat  up  till  he  had 
read  it  through,  and  found  in  it  such  an  air  of  truth, 
that  he  could  not  doubt  of  its  authenticity  ;  adding, 
with  a  smile,  (in  allusion  to  Lord  Eliot's  having  recently 
been  raised  to  the  peerage,)  "  1  did  not  think  di  young 
Lord  could  have  mentioned  to  me  a  book  in  the  Eng- 
lish history  that  was  not  known  to  me." 

An  addition  to  our  company  came  after  we  went  up 
to  the  drawing  room  ;  Dr.  Johnson  seemed  to  rise  in 
spirits  as  his  audience  increased.  He  said,  "  He  wished 
Lord  Orford's  pictures,  and  Sir  Ashton  Lever's  Museum, 
might  be  purchased  by  the  publick,  because  both  the 
money,  and  the  pictures,  and  the  curiosities  would  re- 
main in  the  country  ;  whereas  if  they  were  sold  into 
another  kingdom,  the  nation  would  indeed  get  some 
money,  but  would  lose  the  pictures  and  curiosities, 
which  it  would  be  desirable  we  should  have,  for  im- 
provement in  taste  and  natural  history.  The  only  quest- 
ion was,  as  the  nation  was  much  in  want  of  money, 
whether  it  would  not  be  better  to  take  a  large  price 
from  a  foreign  State  ?" 

He  entered  upon  a  curious  discussion  of  the  differ- 
ence between  intuition  and  sagacity  ;  one  being  imme- 
diate in  its  effect,  the  other  requiring  a  circuitous  pro- 
cess ;  one  he  observed  was  the  eije  of  the  mind,  the 
other  the  nose  of  the  mind. 

A  young  gentleman  present  took  up  the  argument 
against  him,  and  maintained  that  no  man  ever  thinks  of 
the  nose  of  the  mind,  not  adverting  that  though  that  fig- 


DR.   JOHNSON.  417 

urative  sense  seems  strange  to  us,  as  very  unusual,  it  is  ^784. 
truly  not  more  forced  than  Hamlet's  '^  In  my  7)wtd's  ^(^ 
ei/e,  Horatio."  He  persisted  much  too  long,  and  ap-  75.  * 
peared  to  Johnson  as  putting  himself  forward  as  his  an- 
tagonist with  too  much  presumption  :  upon  which  he 
called  to  him  in  a  loud  tone,  "  What  is  it  you  are  con- 
tending for,  if  you  be  contending  !" — And  afterwards 
imagining  that  the  gentleman  retorted  upon  him  with 
a  kind  of  smart  drollery,  he  said,  "  Mr.  *****,  jt  does 
not  become  you  to  talk  so  to  me.  Besides,  ridicule  is 
not  your  talent ;  you  have  t/iere  neither  intuition  nor 
sagacity." — The  gentleman  protested  that  he  had  in- 
tended no  improper  freedom,  but  had  the  greatest  re- 
spect for  Dr.  Johnson.  After  a  short  pause,  during 
which  we  were  somewhat  uneasy. — Johnson.  "  Give 
me  your  hand,  Sir.  You  were  too  tedious,  and  I  was 
too  short.  Mr.  *****,  "  Sir,  I  am  honoured  by  your 
attention  in  any  way."  Johnson.  "Come,  Sir,  let's 
have  no  more  of  it.  We  offended  one  another  by  our 
contention  ;  let  us  not  offend  the  company  by  our  com- 
pliments." 

He  now  said,  "  He  wished  much  to  go  to  Italy,  and 
that  he  dreaded  passing  the  winter  in  England."  I  said 
nothing  ;  but  enjoyed  a  secret  satisfaction  in  thinking 
that  1  had  taken  the  most  effectual  measures  to  make 
such  a  scheme  practicable. 

On  Monday,  June  28,  I  had  the  honour  to  receive 
from  the  Lord  Chancellor  the  following  letter : 

"  TO  JAMES    BOSWELL,  ESQ. 
'•SIR, 

"  I  SHOULD  have  answered  your  letter  immedi- 
ately ;  if,  (being  much  engaged  when  1  received  it)  I 
had  not  put  it  in  my  pocket,  and  forgot  to  open  it  till 
this  morning. 

"  I  am  much  obliged  to  you  for  the  suggestion  ;  and 
I  will  adopt  and  press  it  as  far  as  I  can.  The  best  ar- 
gument, 1  am  sure,  and  I  hope  it  is  not  likely  to  fail,  is 
Dr  Johnson's  merit. — But  it  will  be  necessary,  if  I 
should  be  so  unfortunate  as  to  miss  seeing  you,  to  con- 

VOL.  III.  .53 


418  THE    LIFE    OF 

1784.  verse  with  Sir  Joshua  on  the  sum  it  will  be  proper  to 

^J^  ask, — in  short,  upon  the  means  of  setting  him  out.     It 

75.  *  would  be  a  reflection  on  us  ail,  if  such  a  man  should 

perish  for  want  of  the  means  to  take  care  of  his  health. 

"  Your's,  &c. 

"  Thurlow." 

This  letter  gave  me  a  very  high  satisfaction  ;  I  next 
day  went  and  shewed  it  to  Sir  Joshua  Reynolds,  who 
was   exceedingly   pleased   with  it.     He  thought  that  I 
should  now  communicate  the  negociation  to  Dr.  John- 
son,  who   might  afterwards  complain  if  the  attention 
with  which  he  had  been  honoured,  should  be  too  long 
concealed  from  him.     1  intended  to  set  out  for  Scot- 
land next  morning  ;  but  Sir  Joshua  cordially  insisted 
that  I  should  stay   another  day,  that  Johnson  and  I 
might  dine  with  him,  that  we  three  might  talk  of  his 
Italian   Tour,  and,  as  Sir  Joshua  expressed    himself, 
"  have  it  all  out."     I  hastened  to  Johnson,  and  was 
told  by  him   that  he  was  rather  better  to-day.     Bos- 
well.  "  I  am  very  anxious  about  you.  Sir,  and  par- 
ticularly that  you  should  go  to   Italy  for  the   winter, 
which  I  believe  is  your  own  wish."     Johnson.  "  It  is, 
Sir."     BoswELL.  "  You  have  no  objection,  I  presume, 
but  the  money  it  would  require."     Johnson.  "  Why, 
no.  Sir." — Upon  which  1  gave  him  a  particular  account 
of  what  had   been  done,  and   read   to   him   the   Lord 
Chancellor's  letter. — He  listened  with  much  attention; 
then   warmly  said,  "  This  is   taking   prodigious  pains 
about  a  man." — "  O,  Sir,   (said  I,   with   most  sincere 
affection,)  your  friends  would  do  every  thing  for  you." 
He  paused, — grew  more  and  more  agitated, — till  tears 
started  into  his  eyes,  and  he  exclaimed  with  fervent 
emotion,   "  God  bless  you  all."     1  was  so  affected 
that  I  also  shed  tears. — After  a  short  silence,  he  re- 
newed and  extended  his  grateful  benediction,  "  God 
bless  you  all,  for  Jesus   Christ's  sake."     We  both 
remained  for  some  time  unable  to  speak. — He   rose 
suddenly  and  quitted  the  room,  quite  melted  in  ten- 
derness.    He  staid  but  a  short  time,  till  he  had  recov- 
ered his  firmness  ;  soon  after  he  returned  I  left  him, 


DR.    JOHNSON.  419 

having  first  engaged  him  to  dine  at  Sir  Joshua  Rey- '784. 
nolds's  next  day. — I  never  was  again  under  that  roof  ^^ 
which  1  had  so  long  reverenced.  75. 

On  Wednesday,  June  30,  the  friendly  confidential 
dinner  with  Sir  Joshua  Reynolds  took  place,  no  other 
company  being  present.  Had  1  known  that  this  was 
the  last  time  that  I  should  enjoy  in  this  world,  the 
conversation  of  a  friend  whom  1  so  much  respected, 
and  from  whom  I  derived  so  much  instruction  and  en- 
tertainment, 1  should  have  been  deeply  affected.  When 
I  now  look  back  to  it,  I  am  vexed  that  a  single  word 
should  have  been  forgotten. 

Both  Sir  Joshua  and  1  were  so  sanguine  in  our  ex- 
pectations, that  we  expatiated  with  confidence  on  the 
liberal  provision  which  we  were  sure  would  be  made  for 
him,  conjecturing  whether  munificence  would  be  dis- 
played in  one  large  donation,  or  in  an  ample  increase 
of  his  pension.  He  himself  catched  so  much  of  our 
enthusiasm,  as  to  allow  himself  to  suppose  it  not  im- 
possible that  our  hopes  might  in  one  way  or  other  be 
realised.  He  said  that  he  would  rather  have  his  pension 
doubled  than  a  grant  of  a  thousand  pounds  ;  "  For, 
(said  he,)  though  probably  I  may  not  live  to  receive  as 
much  as  a  thousand  pounds,  a  man  would  have  the 
consciousness  that  he  should  pass  the  remainder  of  his 
life  in  splendour,  how  long  soever  it  might  be."  Con- 
sidering what  a  moderate  proportion  an  income  of  six 
hundred  pounds  a  year  bears  to  innumerable  fortunes 
in  this  country,  it  is  worthy  of  remark,  that  a  man  so 
truly  great  should  think  it  splendour. 

As  an  instance  of  extraordinary  liberality  of  friend- 
ship, he  told  us,  that  Dr.  Brocklesby  had  upon  this 
occasion  oflfered  him  a  hundred  a  year  for  his  life.  A 
grateful  tear  started  into  his  eye,  as  he  spoke  this  in  a 
faltering  tone. 

Sir  Joshua  and  1  endeavoured  to  flatter  his  imagina- 
tion with  agreeable  prospects  of  happiness  in  Italy. 
"  Nay,  (said  he,)  1  must  not  expect  much  of  that  ; 
when  a  man  goes  to  Italy  merely  to  feel  how  he 
breathes  the  air,  he  can  enjoy  very  little/' 


420  THE    LIFE    OF 

1/84.  Our  conversation  turned  upon  living  in  the  country, 
2^  which  Johnson,  whose  melancholy  mind  required  the 
75.  dissipation  of  quick  successive  variety,  had  habituated 
himself  to  consider  as  a  kind  of  mental  imprisonment. 
*'  Yet,  Sir,  (said  1,)  there  are  many  people  who  are 
content  to  live  in  the  country."  Johnson.  "  Sir,  it  is 
in  the  intellectual  world  as  in  the  physical  world  ;  we 
are  told  by  natural  philosophers  that  a  body  is  at  rest 
in  the  place  that  is  fit  for  it  ;  they  who  are  content  to 
live  in  the  country,  are^V  for  the  country." 

Talking  of  various  enjoyments,  1  argued  that  a  re- 
finement of  taste  was  a  disadvantage,  as  they  who  have 
attained  to  it  must  be  seldomer  pleased  than  those  who 
have  no  nice  discrimination,  and  are  therefore  satisfied 
with  every  thing  that  comes  in  their  way.  Johnson. 
"Nay,  Sir;  that  is  a  paltry  notion.  Endeavour  to  be 
as  perfect  as  you  can  in  every  respect." 

1  accompanied  him  in  Sir  Joshua  Reynolds's  coach, 
to  the  entry  of  Bolt-court.  He  asked  me  whether  I 
would  not  go  with  him  to  his  house  ;  I  declined  it, 
irom  an  apprehension  that  my  spirits  would  sink.  We 
bade  adieu  to  each  other  affectionately  in  the  carriage. 
When  he  had  got  down  upon  the  foot-pavement,  he 
called  out,  *'  Fare  you  well  ;"  and  without  looking 
back,  sprung  away  with  a  kind  of  pathetick  briskness, 
if  1  may  use  that  expression,  which  seemed  to  indicate 
a  struggle  to  conceal  uneasiness,  and  impressed  ijDe 
with  a  foreboding  of  our  long,  long  separation. 

I  remained  one  day  more  in  town,  to  have  the  chance 
of  talking  over  my  negociation  with  the  Lord  Chancel- 
lor ;  but  the  multiplicity  of  his  Lordship's  important 
engagements  did  not  allow  of  it  ;  so  I  left  the  manage- 
ment of  the  business  in  the  hands  of  Sir  Joshua 
Reynolds. 

Soon  after  this  time  Dr.  Johnson  had  the  mortifica- 
tion of  being  informed  by  Mrs.  Thrale,  that,  "  what 
she  supposed  he  never  believed,"'  was  true  ;  namely, 
that  she  was  actually  going  to  marry  Signor  Piozzi,  an 
Italian  musick-master.     He  endeavoured  tp  prevent  it; 

'  •«  Letters  to  Mrs.  Thrale,"  Vol,  II.  page  375, 


DR.   JOHNSON.  421 

but  in  vain.     If  she  would   publish  the  whole  of  the  1784. 
correspondence  that  passed  between  Dr.  Johnson  and  ^^ 
her  on   the  subject,  we  should  have  a  full  view  of  his   75.  * 
real  sentiments.      As  it  is,  our  judgement  must  be 
biassed  by  that  characteristick  specimen  which  Sir  John 
Hawkins  has  given  us  :  '•  Poor  Thrale,  1  thought  that 
either  her  virtue  or  her  vice  would  have  restrained  her 
from  such  a  marriage.     She  is  now  become  a  subject 
for  her  enemies  to  exult  over  ;  and  for  her  friends,  if 
she  has  any  left,  to  forget,  or  pity."^ 

It  must  be  admitted  that  Johnson  derived  a  consider- 
able portion  of  happiness  from  the  comforts  and  ele- 
gancies which  he  enjoyed  in  Mr.  Thrale's  family  ;  but 
Mrs.  Thrale  assures  us  he  was  indebted  for  these  to  her 
husband  alone,  who  certainly  respected  him  sincerely. 
Her  words  are.  Veneration  for  his  virtue^  reverence  Jor 
his  talents^  delight  in  his  conversation^  and  habitual 
endurance  of  a  yoke  ray  husband  first  put  upon  me, 
and  of  which  he  contentedly  bore  Itis  share  for  sixteen 
or  seventeen  years^  made  me  go  on  so  long  with  Mr. 
Johnson;  hut  the  perpetual  confinement  I  imll  own  to 
have  been  terrifying  «/z  the  first  years  of  our  friendship^ 
and  irksome  in  the  last ;  nor  could  I  pretend  to  support 
it  imthout  help^  when  my  coadjutor  zvas  no  more."^  Alas  ! 
how  different  is  this  from  the  declarations  which  I  have 
heard  Mrs.  Thrale  make  in  his  life  time,  without  a  sin- 
gle murmur  against  any  peculiarities,  or  against  any 
one  circumstance  which  attended  their  intimacy. 

As  a  sincere  friend  of  the  great  man  whose  Life  1 
am  writing,  I  think  it  necessary  to  guard  my  readers 
against  the  mistaken  notion  of  Dr.  Johnson's  character, 
which  this  lady's  "  Anecdotes"  of  him  suggest  ;  for 
from  the  very  nature  and  form  of  her  book,  "  it  lends 
deception  lighter  wings  to  fly." 

"  Let  it  be  remembered,  (says  an  eminent  critick,*) 
that  she  has  comprised  in  a  small  volume  all  that  she 
could  recollect  of  Dr.  Johnson  in  twentif  years,  during 

^  Dr.  Johnson's  Letter  to  Sir  John  Hawkins,  "  Life,"  p.  570. 

•  "  Anecdotes,"  p.  29S. 

*  Who  has  been  pleased  to  furnish  me  with  his  remarks. 


422  THE    LIFE    OF 

1784.  which  period,  doubtless,  some  severe  things  were  said 
^j^  by  him  ;  and  they  who  read  the  book  in  two  hours,  nat- 
75,  urally  enough  suppose  that  his  whole  conversation  was 
of  this  complexion.  But  the  fact  is,  I  have  been  often 
in  his  company,  and  never  once  heard  him  say  a  severe 
thing  to  any  one  ;  and  many  others  can  attest  the  same. 
When  he  did  say  a  severe  thmg,  it  was  generally  extort- 
ed by  ignorance  pretending  to  knowledge,  or  by  extreme 
vanity  or  affectation. 

"  Two  instances  of  inaccuracy,  (adds  he,)  are  pecu- 
liarly worthy  of  notice  : 

"  It  is  said,  ^  '  That  natural  roughness  of  his  manner  so 
often  mentioned,  ziaould,  tiotwithstanding  the  regularity 
of  his  notions,  burst  through  them  all  from  time  to  time; 
and  he  once  bade  a  very  celebrated  lady,  x<Dho  praised 
him  with  too  much  zeal  perhaps,  or  perhaps  too  strong 
an  emphasis,  f  which  always  offended  him,)  consider  what 
herfatterif  zvas  worth,  before  she  choaked  him  zoitk  it.' 

"  Now  let  the  genuine  anecdote  be  contrasted  with 
this. — The  person  thus  represented  as  being  harshly 
treated,  though  a  very  celebrated  lady,  was  then  just 
come  to  London  from  an  obscure  situation  in  the  coun- 
try. At  Sir  Joshua  Reynolds's  one  evening,  she  met 
Dr.  Johnson.  She  very  soon  began  to  pay  her  court  to 
him  in  the  most  fulsome  strain.  '  Spare  me,  I  beseech 
you,  dear  Madam,^  was  his  reply.  She  still  laid  it  on. 
'  Pray,  Madam,  let  us  have  no  more  of  this  ;'  he  re- 
joined. Not  paying  any  attention  to  these  warnings, 
she  continued  still  her  eulogy.  At  length,  provoked 
by  this  indelicate  and  :,'«/«  obtrusion  of  compliment,  he 
exclaimed,  '  Dearest  lady,  consider  with  yourself  what 
your  flattery  is  worth,  before  you  bestow  it  so  freely.' 

"  How  different  does  this  story  appear,  when  accom- 
panied with  all  these  circumstances  which  really  belong 
to  it,  but  which  Mrs.  Thrale  either  did  not  know,  or 
has  suppressed. 

"  She  says,  in  another  place,  ^  '  One  gentleman,  how- 
ever, who  dined  at  a  nobleman\s  house  in  his  company,  and 

^  ''  "  Anecdotes,"  p.  1 83. 

'  "  Anecdotes,"  p.  242, 


DR.   JOHNSON.  423 

that  o/Mr.  Thrale,  to  zvhom  I  was  obliged  for  the  anec-  •784. 
dote^  zaas  usilling  to  enter  the  lists  in  defence   of  King  ^^^ 
William's  character;  and  having  opposed  and  contra-   75, 
dieted  Johnson  tzvo  or  three  timeSy  petulantly  enough, 
the  master  of  the  house  began  to  feel  uneasy,  and  expect 
disagreeable  consequences  ;   to  avoid  which  he  said,  loud 
enough  for  the  Doctor  to  hear, — '  Our  friend  here  has 
no  meaning  noi<o  in  all  this,  except  just  to  relate  at  club 
to-morroiv  hozv  he  teazed  Johnson  at  dinner  to-day  ;  this 
is  all  to  do  himself  honour.' — *  No,   upon  my  zfaord,  (re- 
plied the  other,)  I  see  no  honour   in  it,   zohatever  you 
may  do.' — '  Well,  Sir,  (returned  Mr.  Johnson,  sternly, J 
if  you  do  not  see  the  honour,  I  am  sure  I  feel  the  dis- 
grace.' 

"  This  is  all  sophisticated.  Mr.  Thrale  was  not  in 
the  company,  though  he  might  have  related  the  story 
to  Mrs.  Thrale.  A  friend,  from  whom  I  had  the  story, 
was  present ;  and  it  was  not  at  the  house  of  a  noble- 
man. On  the  observation  being  made  by  the  master 
of  the  house  on  a  gentleman's  contradicting  Johnson, 
that  he  had  talked  for  the  honour,  &c.  the  gentleman 
muttered  in  a  low  voice,  '  I  see  no  honour  in  it  ;'  and 
Dr.  Johnson  said  nothing  :  so  all  the  rest,  {though  bieft 
trouvee)  is  mere  garnish. 

I  have  had  occasion  several  times,  in  the  course  of 
this  work,  to  point  out  the  incorrectness  of  Mrs. 
Thrale,  as  to  particulars  which  consisted  with  my  own 
knowledge.  But  indeed  she  has,  in  flippant  terms 
enough,  expressed  her  disapprobation  of  that  anxious 
desire  of  authenticity  which  prompts  a  person  who  is  to 
record  conversations,  to  write  them  down  at  the  mo- 
ment. ^  Unquestionably,  if  they  are  to  be  recorded  at 
all,  the  sooner  it  is  done  the  better.  This  lady  herself 
says,  ^  "  To  recollect,  however,  and  to  repeat  the  sayings 
o/"Dr.  Johnson,  is  almost  all  that  can  be  done  by  the 
Zi>riters  of  his  Lfe ;  as  his  life,  at  least  since  my  ac- 
quaintance zmth  him,  consisted  in  little  else  than  talk- 
ing^ zohen  he  was  not  employed  in  some  serious  piece  of 
zmrk."     She  boasts  of  her  having  kept  a  common-place 

"  "  Anecdotes  "  p.  44.        » Ibid.  p.  23. 


424;  THE    LIFE    OF 

1784.  book ;  anrd  we  find  she  noted,  at  one  time  or  other,  in 
SaT  ^  "^^^y  ^^^^^y  inanner,  specimens  of  the  conversation  of 
75.  '  Dr.  Johnson,  and  of  those  who  talked  with  him  ;  but 
had  she  done  it  recently,  they  probably  would  have 
been  less  erroneous  ;  and  we  should  have  been  relieved 
from  those  disagreeable  doubts  of  their  authenticity, 
with  which  we  must  now  peruse  them. 

She  says  of  him.'  He  was  the  most  charitable  of 
mot^ta/s,  zaithoiit  being  vohat  we  call  an  active  friend. 
Admirable  at  giving  cowisel  ;  ?io  man  saw  his  way  so 
clearly  ;  but  he  would  not  stir  a  finger  for  the  assist- 
ance of  those  to  whom  he  was  ivilling  enough  to  give  ad- 
vice." And  again  on  the  same  page,  "  If  you  wanted 
a  slight  favour,  you  must  apply  to  people  of  other  dis- 
positions ;  for  not  a  step  would  Johnson  move  to 
obtain  a  man  a  vote  in  a  society,  to  repaij  a  compliment 
which  might  be  useful  or  pleasing,  to  zvrite  a  letter  of 
request,  ^'C.  or  to  obtain  a  hundred  pounds  a  year  more 
for  a  friend  who  perhaps  had  already  two  or  three.  No 
force  could  urge  him  to  diligence,  no  importunity  could 
conquer  his  resolution  to  stand  still." 

It  is  amazing  that  one  who  had  such  opportunities 
of  knowing  Dr.  Johnson,  should  appear  so  little  ac- 
quainted with  his  real  character.  I  am  sorry  this  lady 
does  not  advert,  that  she  herself  contradicts  the  asser- 
tion of  his  being  obstinately  defective  in  the  petites 
morales,  in  the  little  endearing  charities  of  social  life, 
in  conferring  smaller  favours  ;  for  she  says,*  "  Dr. 
Johnson  was  liberal  enough  in  granting  Uteranj  assist- 
ance to  others,  I  think  ;  and  irihiumerable  are  the  Pre- 
faces, Sermons,  Lectures,  and  Dedications  which  he 
used  to  make  for  people  zvho  begged  of  him."  I  am 
certain  that  a  more  active  friend  has  rarely  been  found 
in  any  age.  This  work,  which  I  fondly  hope  will 
rescue  his  memory  from  obloquy,  contains  a  thousand 
instances  of  his  benevolent  exertions  in  almost  every 
way  that  can  be  conceived  ;  and  particularly  in  em- 
ploying his  pen  with  a  generous  readiness  for  those  to 
whom  its  aid  could  be   useful.     Indeed  his  obliging 

' "  Anecdotes,"  p.  51.  '  Ibid.  p.  193. 


DR.    JOHNSON.  425 

activity  in  doing  little  offices  of  kindness,  both  by  letters  '784. 
and  personal  application,  was  one  of  the  most  remark-  ^tat^ 
able  features  in  his  cliaracter  ;  and  for  the  truth  of  this    75. 
I  can  appeal   to   a  number  of  his   respectable  friends  : 
Sir  Joshua    Reynolds,    Mr.    Langton,   Mr.    Hamilton, 
Mr.  Burke,  Mr.  Windham,  Mr.  Malone,  the  Bishop  of 
Dromore,   Sir  William  Scott,   Sir  Robert  Chambers. — 
And  can  Mrs.  Thrale  forget  the  advertisements  which 
he  wrote  for  her   husband  at  the  time  of  his   election 
contest  ;  the  epitaphs  on    him   and   her   mother  ;  the 
playful  and  even  trifling  verses,  for  the  amusement  of 
her  and   her   daughters  ;  his   corresponding  with   her 
children,  and  entering  into  their  minute  concerns,  which 
shews  him  in  the  most  amiable  light  ? 

She  relates,^  that  Mr.  Ch — Im — ley  unexpectedly 
rode  up  to  Mr.  Thrale's  carriage,  in  which  Mr.  Thrale 
and  she,  and  Dr.  Johnson  were  travelling  ;  that  he  paid 
them  all  his  proper  compliments,  but  observing  that 
Dr.  Johnson,  who  was  reading,  did  not  see  him,  "  tupt 
him  gently  on  the  shoulder.  '  ^Tis  Mr.  Ch — Im-— ley  ;' 
saijs  rnij  husband.  '  WeU.,  Sir — cmd  what  if  it  is 
Mr.  Ch — Im — ley  •'  says  the  other.,  sternlij.,  just  lift- 
ing his  eijes  a  moment  from  his  book,  and  returning  to 
it  again  z<Dith  renewed  avidity.^^  This  surely  conveys  a 
notion  of  Johnson,  as  if  he  had  been  grossly  rude  to 
Mr.  Cholmondley,^  a  gentleman  whom  he  always 
loved  and  esteemed.  If,  therefore,  there  was  an  abso- 
lute necessity  for  mentioning  the  story  at  all,  it  might 
have  been  thought  that  her  tenderness  for  Dr.  John- 
son's character  would  have  disposed  her  to  state  any 
thing  that  could  soften  it.  Why  then  is  there  a  total 
silence  as  to  what  Mr.  Cholmondley  told  her  \ — that 
Johnson,  who  had  known  him  from  his  earliest  years, 
havinsf  been  made  sensible  of  what  had  doubtless  a 
strange  appearance,  took  occasion,  when  he  afterwards 
met  him,  to  make  a  very  courteous  and  kind  apology. 
There  is  another  little  circumstance  which  1  cannot 

2  "  Anecdotes,"  p.  258. 

3  George  James  Choimondley,  Esq.  grandson  of  George,  third  Earl  of  Chol- 
mondley, and  one  of  the  Commissioners  of  Excise;  a  gentleman  respected  for  his 
abilities,  and  elegance  of  manners. 

VOL.  III.  54" 


11'6  lllE    LIFE    OF 

1784.  but  remark.  Her  book  was  published  in  l?8d,  she 
^!^  had  then  in  her  possession  a  letter  from  Dr.  Johnson, 
75. '  dated  in  1777,-^  which  begins  thus;  "  Cholraondley's 
story  shocks  me,  if  it  be  true,  which  1  can  hardly  think, 
for  I  am  utterly  unconscious  of  it  :  I  am  very  sorry, 
and  very  much  ashamed."  Why  then  publish  the 
anecdote  I  Or  if  she  did,  why  not  add  the  circum- 
stances, with  which  she  was  well  acquainted  ] 

In  his  social  intercourse  she  thus  describes  him  :^ 
"  Ever  musing  till  he  ikjcis  called  out  to  converse,  and 
conversing  till  the  fatigue  of  hisjriends,  or  the  prompt- 
itude of  his  own  temper  to  take  offence,  consigned  him 
hack  again  to  silent  meditation.''^  Yet,  in  the  same 
book,*^  she  tells  us,  "  He  was,  however,  seldom  inclined 
to  be  silent,  when  any  moral  or  Uterarij  question  loas 
started ;  and  it  was  on  such  occasions  tliat,  like  the  Sage 
in  '  Rasselas,'  he  spoke,  and  attention  ivatched  his  lips ; 
he  reasoned,  and  conviction  closed  his  periods." — His 
conversation,  indeed,  was  so  far  from  e\  ex  fatiguing  his 
friends,  that  they  regretted  when  it  was  interrupted  or 
ceased,  and  could  exclaim  in  Milton's  language, 

"  With  thee  conversing,  I  forgot  all  time." 

I  certainly,  then,  do  not  claim  too  much  in  behal* 
of  my  illustrious  friend  in  saying,  that  however  smart 
and  entertaining  Mrs.  Thrale's  "  Anecdotes"  are,  they 
must  not  be  held  as  good  evidence  against  him  ;  for 
wherever  an  instance  of  harshness  and  severity  is  told, 
I  beg  leave  to  doubt  its  perfect  authenticity  ;  for 
♦  though  there  may  have  been  some  foundation  for  it, 
yet,  like  that  of  his  reproof  to  the  ''  very  celebrated 
lady,"  it  may  be  so  exhibited  in  the  narration  as  to  be 
verv  unlike  the  real  fact. 

The  evident  tendency  of  the  following  anecdote^  is 
to  represent  Dr.  Johnson  as  extremely  deficient  in  af- 
fection, tenderness,  or  even  common  civility.  "  When 
I  one  day  lamented  the  loss  of  a  first  cousin  kHled  in 

"  "  Letters  to  Mrs.  Thrale,"  Vol.  II.  p.  12. 
'  "  zlnecdotes,"  p.  23.  «  Ibid  p.  302. 

■  "  Anecdotes,"  p.  63. 


DR.    JOHNSON.  427 

America, — '  Prithee^  mij   dear^  (said  he  J  have  done  •7^'*' 
with  canting  ;  how  i<i)Ould  the  zvor/d  be  the  icorse  for  it^  ^^ 
1  may  ask^  ij' all  your  relations  tuyere  at  once  spitted  like    7.5. 
larks,  and  roasted  for   Presto's  supper  V — Presto  iidus 
the  dog  that  lay  under   the  table  ivhile  k'<?  talked.^' — I 
suspect  this  too  of  exaggeration  and  distortion.    1  allow 
that  he   made  her  an  angry  speech  ;  but  let  the  cir- 
cumstances fairly  appear,   as  told  by  Mr.  Baretti,  who 
Avas  present  :  , 

"  Mrs.  Thrale,  while  supping  very  heartily  upon 
larks,  laid  down  her  knife  and  fork,  and  abruptly  ex- 
claimed, '  O,  my  dear  Johnson,  do  you  know  what  has 
happened  ?  The  last  letters  from  abroad  have  brought 
us  an  account  that  our  poor  cousin's  head  was  taken 
off  by  a  cannon-ball.'  Johnson,  who  was  shocked  both 
at  the  fact,  and  her  light  unfeeling  manner  of  mention- 
ing it,  replied,  "  Madam,  it  would  give  you  very  little 
concern  if  all  your  relations  were  spitted  like  those 
larks,  and  drest  for  Presto's  supper."^ 

It  is  with  concern  that  I  find  myself  obliged  to  ani- 
madvert on  the  inaccuracies  of  Mrs.  Piozzi's  "  Anec- 
dotes," and  perhaps  1  may  be  thought  to  have  dwelt 
too  long  upon  her  little  collection.  But  as  fronl 
Johnson's  long  residence  under  Mr.  Thrale's  roof,  and 
his  intimacy  with  her,  the  account  which  she  has  given 
of  him  may  have  made  an  unfavourable  and  unjust 
impression,  my  duty,  as  *a  faithful  biographer,  has 
obliged  me  reluctantly  to  perform  this  unpleasing  task. 

Having  left  the  pious  negociation,  as  I  called  it,  in 
the  best  hands,  I  shall  here  insert  what  relates  to  it. 
Johnson  wrote  to  Sir  Joshua  Reynolds  on  July  6,  as 
follows  ;  "  I  am  going,  1  hope,  in  a  few  days,   to  try 

«  Upon  mentioning  this  to  my  friend  Mr.  Wilkes,  he,  with  his  usual  readiness, 
pleasantly  matched  it  with  the  following  sentimental  anecdote.  He  was  invited  by  a 
young  man  of  fasliion  at  Paris,  to  sup  with  him  and  a  lady,  who  had  been  for 
some  time  his  mistress,  but  with  whom  he  was  going  to  part.  He  said  to  Mr. 
Wilkes  that  he  really  felt  very  much  for  her,  she  was  in  such  distress  ;  and  that 
he  meant  to  make  her  a  present  of  two  hundred  louis-d'ors.  Mr.  Wilkes  observed 
the  behaviour  of  Mademoiselle,  who  sighed  indeed  very  piteously,  and  assumed 
every  pathetick  air  of  grief;  but  eat  no  less  than  three  French  pigeons,  which  are  as 
large  as  English  partridges,  besides  other  things.  Mr.  Wilkes  whispered  the  gentle- 
man, "  We  often  say  in  England,  Excessi'ue  sorroiv  is  exceeding  dry,  hut  I  never  heard 
Excessive  sorroiv  is  exceeding  hungry.  Perhaps  one  -hundred  will  do."  The  gentle- 
man took  the  hint. 


428  THE    LIFE    OF 

1784.  the  air  of  Derbyshire,  but  hope  to  see  you  before  I  go. 
^^  Let  me,  however,  mention  to  you  what  1  have  much 
75.  at  heart. — If  the  Chancellor  should  continue  his  atten- 
tion to  Mr.  Boswell's  request,  and  confer  with  you  on 
the  means  of  relieving  my  languid  state,  1  am  very 
desirous  to  avoid  the  appearance  of  asking  money  upon 
false  pretences.  1  desire  you  to  represent  to  his  Lord- 
ship, what,  as  soon  as  it  is  suggested,  he  will  perceive 
to  be  reasonable, — That,  if  I  grow  much  worse,  1  shall 
be  afraid  to  leave  my  physicians,  to  suffer  the  incon- 
veniences of  travel,  and  pine  in  the  solitude  of  a  foreign 
country  ; — That,  if  1  grow  much  better,  of  which  in- 
deed there  is  now  little  app(  arance,  1  shall  not  wish  to 
leave  my  friends  and  my  domestick  comforts  ;  for  1  do 
not  travel  for  pleasure  or  curiosity  ;  yet  if  1  should  re- 
cover, curiosity  would  revive. — In  my  present  state,  I 
am  desirous  to  make  a  struggle  for  a  little  longer  life, 
and  hope  to  obtain  some  help  from  a  softer  climate. 
Do  for  me  what  you  can."  He  wrote  to  me  July  26  : 
"  1  wish  your  affairs  could  have  permitted  a  longer  and 
continued  exertion  of  your  zeal  and  kindness.  They 
that  have  your  kindness  may  want  your  ardour.  In 
the  mean  time  I  am  very  feeble,  and  very  dt  jected." 

By  a  letter  from  Sir  Joshua  Reynolds  1  was  informed, 
that  the  Lord  Chancellor  had  called  on  him,  and  ac- 
quainted him  that  the  application  had  not  been  suc- 
cessful ;  but  that  his  Lordship,  after  speaking  highly 
in  praise  of  Johnson,  as  a  man  who  was  an  honour  to 
his  country,  desired  Sir  Joshua  to  let  him  know,  that 
on  granting  a  mortgage  of  his  pension,  he  should  draw 
on  his  Lordship  to  the  amount  of  five  or  six  hundred 
pounds  ;  and  that  his  Lordship  explained  the  meaning 
of  the  mortgage  to  be,  that  he  wished  the  business  to 
be  conducted  in  such  a  manner,  that  Dr.  Johnson 
should  appear  to  be,  under  the  least  possible  obligation. 
Sir  Joshua  mentioned,  that  he  had  by  the  same  post 
communicated  all  this  to  Dr.  Johnson. 

How  Johnson  was  affected  upon  the  occasion  will 
appear  from  what  he  wrote  to  Sir  Joshua  Reynolds  : 

Ashbourne,  Sept.  9.  "  Many  words  1  hope  are  not 
necessary  between  you  and  me,  to  convince  you  what 


DR.   JOHNSON.  429 

gratitude  is  excited  in  my  heart  by  the  Chancellor's  i784. 
liberality,  and  your  kind  offices.     ******.  ^^ 

"  I  have  enclosed  a  letter  to  the  Chancellor,  which,   75.  ' 
when  you  have  read  it,  you  will  be  pleased  to  seal  with 
a  head,  or  any  other  general  seal,  and  convey  it  to  him  : 
had  1  sent  it  directly  to  him,  1  should  have  seemed  to 
overlook  the  favour  of  your  intervention." 

"  TO  THE  LORD  HIGH  CHANCELLOR." 
"  MY  LORD, 

"  After  a  long  and  not  inattentive  observation  of 
mankind,  the  generosity  of  your  Lordship's  offer  raises 
in  me  not  less  wonder  than  gratitude.  Bounty,  so  lib- 
erally bestowed,  1  should  gladly  receive,  if  my  condition 
made  it  necessary  ;  for,  to  such  a  mind,  who  would  not 
be  proud  to  own  his  obligations  I  But  it  has  pleased 
God  to  restore  me  to  so  great  a  measure  of  health,  that 
if  1  should  now  appropriate  so  much  of  a  fortune  des- 
tined to  do  good,  1  could  not  escape  from  myself  the 
charge  of  advancing  a  false  claim.  My  journey  to  the 
continent,  though  1  once  thought  it  necessary,  was 
never  much  encouraged  by  my  physicians  ;  and  I  was 
very  desirous  that  your  Lordship  should  be  told  of  it  by 
Sir  Joshua  Reynolds,  as  an  event  very  uncertain  ;  for 
if  I  grew  much  better,  1  should  not  be  willing,  if  much 
worse,  not  able,  to  migrate. — Your  Lordship  was  first 
solicited  without  my  knowledge  ;  but,  when  1  was  told 
that  you  w^ere  pleased  to  honour  me  with  your  patron- 
age, 1  did  not  expect  to  hear  of  a  refusal  ;  yet,  as  1  have 
had  no  long  time  to  brood  hope,  and  have  not  rioted  in 
imaginary  opulence,  this  cold  reception  has  been  scarce 
a  disappointment ;  and,  from  your  Lordship's  kindness, 
1  have  received  a  benefit,  which  only  men  like  you  are 

">  sir  Joshua  Reynolds,  on  account  of  the  excellence  both  of  the  sentiment  and 
expression  of  this  letter,  took  a  copy  of  it,  which  he  shewed  to  some  of  his  friends  ; 
one  of  whom,  who  admired  it,  being  allowed  to  peruse  it  leisurely  at  home,  a  copy 
was  made,  and  found  its  way  into  the  newspapers  and  magazines.  It  was  tran- 
scribed with  some  inaccuracies.  I  print  it  from  the  original  draft  in  Johnson's 
own  hand-writing. 


m 


430  THE    LIFE    OF 

1784.  able   to  bestow.     I  shall  now  live  mihi  carior,  with  a 
2J^^  higher  opinion  of  my  own  merit. 
75.  "  I  am,  my  Lord, 

"Your  Lordship's  most  obliged, 
"  Most  grateful,  and 

"  Most  humble  servant, 
"  September,  1784.  "  Sam.  Johnson." 

Upon  this  unexpected  failure  I  abstain  from  presum- 
ing to  make  any  remarks,  or  to  offer  any  conjectures. 

Having,  after  repeated  reasonings,  brought  Dr.  John- 
son to  agree  to  my  removing  to  London,  and  even  to 
furnish  me  with  arguments  in  favour  of  what  he  had 
opposed  ;  1  wrote  to  him  requesting  he  would  write 
them  for  me  ;  he  was  so  good  as  to  comply,  and  1  shall 
extract  that  part  of  his  letter  to  me  of  June  11,  as  a 
proof  how  well  he  could  exhibit  a  cautious  yet  encour- 
aging view  of  it : 

"  1  remember,  and  intreat  you  to  remember,  that  vir- 
tus est  vitium  fugere ;  the  first  approach  to  riches  is  se- 
curity froin  poverty.  The  condition  upon  which  you 
have  my  consent  to  settle  in  London  is,  that  your  ex- 
pence  never  exceeds  your  annual  income.  Fixing  this 
basis  of  security,  you  cannot  be  hurt,  and  you  may  be 
very  much  advanced.  The  loss  of  your  Scottish  busi- 
ness, which  is  all  that  you  can  lose,  is  not  to  be  reckon- 
ed as  any  equivalent  to  the  hopes  and  possibilities  that 
open  here  upon  you.  If  you  succeed,  the  question  of 
prudence  is  at  an  end  ;  every  b9dy  will  think  that  done 
right  which  ends  happily  ;  and  though  your  expecta- 
tions, of  which  I  would  not  advise  you  to  talk  too  much, 
should  not  be  totally  answered,  you  can  hardly  fail  to 
get  friends  who  will  do  for  you  all  that  your  present  sit- 
uation allows  you  to  hope  ;  and  if,  after  a  few  years, 
you  should  return  to  Scotland,  you  will  return  with  a 
mind  supplied  by  various  conversation,  and  many  op- 
portunities of  enquiry,  with  much  knowledge,  and  ma-' 
terials  for  reflection  and  instruction." 

Let  us  now  contemplate  Johnson  thirty  years  after 
the  death  of  his  wife,  still  retaining  for  her  all  the  ten- 
derness of  affection. 


I 


DR.   JOHNSON.  431 


4784. 

Etat 
75. 


"  TO  THE  REVEREND  MR.  BAGSHAW,   AT  BROMLEY.*     ^tat. 
"  SIR, 

"  Perhaps  you  may  remember,  that  in  the  year 
1753,  you  committed  to  the  ground  my  dear  wife.  I 
now  entreat  your  permission  to  lay  a  stone  upon  her  ; 
and  have  sent  the  inscription,  th^t,  if  you  find  it  proper, 
you  ma}'  signify  your  allowance. 

"  You  will  do  me  a  great  favour  by  showing  the  place 
where  she  lies,  that  the  stone  may  protect  her  remains. 
"  Mr.  Ryland  will  wait  on  you  for  the  inscription,^ 
and  procure  it  to  be  engraved.  You  will  easily  believe 
that  I  shrink  from  this  mournful  office.  When  it  is 
done,  if  J  have  strength  remaining,  I  will  visit  Bromley 
once  again,  and  pay  you  part  of  the  respect  to  which 
you  have  a  right  from,  Reverend  Sir, 

"  Your  most  humble  servant, 
"  J«/y  12,  1784.  "Sam.  Johnson." 

On  the  same  day  he  wrote  to  Mr.  Langton  :  "  I  can- 
not but  think  that  in  my  languid  and  anxious  state,  I 
have  some  reason  to  complain  that  I  receive  from  you 
neither  enquiry  nor  consolation.  You  know  how  much 
I  value  your  friendship,  and  with  what  confidence  I  ex- 
pect your  kindness,  if  1  wanted  any  act  of  tenderness 
that  you  could  perform  ;  at  least,  if  you  do  not  know  it, 
I  think  your  ignorance  is  your  own  fault.  Yet  how 
long  is  it  that  I  have  lived  almost  in  your  neighbour- 
hood without  the  least  notice. — I  do  not,  however, 
consider  this  neglect  as  particularly  shown  to  me  ;  I 
hear  two  of  your  most  valuable  friends  make  the 
same  complaint.  But  why  are  all  thus  overlooked  ! 
You  are  not  oppressed  by  sickness,  you  are  not  dis- 
tracted by  business ;  if  you  are  sick,  you  are  sick  of 
leisure  : — And  allow  yourself  to  be  told,  that  no  disease 
is  more  to  be  dreaded  or  avoided.  Rather  to  do  noth- 
ing than  to  do  good,  is  the  lowest  state  of  a  degraded 
mind.     Boileau  says  to  his  pupil, 

'See  Vol,  II.  p  98.  :  Printed  in  Ws  Work?. 


432  THE    LIFE    OP 

J  784.       «  Que  les  vers  ne  soient  pas  vdtre  eternel  emploi^ 
Mint.      '  Cultivez  vos  amis.^ 

That  voluntary  debility,  which  modern  language  is  con- 
tent to  term  indolence,  will,  if  it  is  not  counteracted  by 
resolution,  render  in  time  the  strongest  faculties  lifeless, 
and  turn  the  flame  to  the  smoke  of  virtue. — i  do  not  ex- 
pect nor  desire  to  see  you,  because  1  am  much  pleased 
to  find  that  your  mother  stays  so  long  with  you,  and  I 
should  think  you  neither  elegant  nor  grateful,  if  you  did 
not  study  her  gratification.  You  will  pay  my  respects 
to  both  the  ladies,  and  to  all  the  young  people. — I  am 
going  Northward  for  a  while,  to  try  what  help  the  coun- 
try can  give  me  ;  but,  if  you  will  write,  the  letter  will 
come  after  me." 

Next  day  he  set  out  on  a  jaunt  to  Staffordshire  and 
Derbyshire,  flattering  himself  that  he  might  be  in  some 
degree  relieved. 

During  his  absence  from  London  he  kept  up  a  cor- 
respondence with  several  of  his  friends,  from  which  I 
shall  select  what  appears  to  me  proper  for  publication, 
without  attending  nicely  to  chronological  order. 

To  Dr.  Brocklesby,  he  writes,  Ashbourne,  July  20. 
"  The  kind  attention  which  you  have  so  long  shewn  to 
my  health  and  happiness,  makes  it  as  much  a  debt  of 
gratitude  as  a  call  of  interest,  to  give  you  an  account  of 
what  befalls  me,  when  accident  recovers^  me  from  your 
immediate  care. — The  journey  of  the  first  day  was  per- 
formed with  very  little  sense  of  fatigue  ;  the  second  day 
brought  me  to  Lichfield,  without  much  lassitude  ;  but 
I  am  afraid  that  1  could  not  have  bore  such  violent 
agitation  for  many  days  together.  Tell  Dr.  Heberden, 
that  in  the  coach  I  read  '  Ciceronian  us'  which  I  con- 
cluded as  I  entered  Lichfield.  My  affection  and  under- 
standing went  along  with  Erasmus,  except  that  once  or 
twice  he  somewhat  unskilfully  entangles  Cicero's  civil 
or  moral,  with  his  rhetorical  character. — I  staid  five  days 
at  Lichfield,  but,  being  unable  to  walk,   had  no  great 

^  [This  is  probably  an  errour  either  of  the  transcript  or  the  press.  Remo-^'n 
seems  to  be  the  word  intended    M.^ 


DR.   JOHNSON.  433 

pleasure,  and  yesterday  (1 9th)  I  came  hither,  where  I  »784. 
am  to  try  what  air  and  attention  can  perform. — Of  any  ^^^ 
improvement  in  my  health  I  cannot  yet  please  myself  75.  * 
with  the  perception.  *****  *. — Xhe  asthma  has  no 
abatement.  Opiates  stop  the  fit,  so  as  that  1  can  sit 
and  sometimes  lie  easy,  but  they  do  not  now  procure 
me  the  power  of  motion  ;  and  1  am  afraid  that  my  gen- 
eral strength  of  body  does  not  encrease.  The  weather 
indeed  is  not  benign  ;  but  how  low  is  he  sunk  whose 
strength  depends  upon  the  weather  ! — 1  am  now  looking 
into  Fioyer,  who  lived  with  his  asthma  to  almost  his 
ninetieth  year.  His  book  by  want  of  order  is  obscure  ; 
and  his  asthma,  I  think,  not  of  the  same  kind  with  mine. 
Something  however  I  may  perhaps  learn — My  appetite 
still  continues  keen  enough  ;  and  what  I  consider  as  a 
symptom  of  radical  health,  I  have  a  voracious  delight  in 
raw  summer  fruit,  of  which  1  was  less  eager  a  few  years 
ago. — You  will  be  pleased  to  communicate  this  account 
to  Dr.  Heberden,  and  if  any  thing  is  to  be  done,  let 
me  have  your  joint  opinion. — Now — abite  curce  ; — let 
me  enquire  after  the  Club."* 

July  31.  "  Not  recollecting  that  Dr.  Heberden 
might  be  at  Windsor,  I  thought  your  letter  long  in 
coming.  But,  you  know,  nocitiira  petuntur^  the  letter 
which  I  so  much  desired,  tells  me  that  1  have  lost  one 
of  my  best  and  tenderest  friends.  ^  My  comfort  is, 
that  he  appeared  to  live  like  a  man  that  had  always 
before  his  eyes  the  fragility  of  our  present  existence, 
and  was  therefore,  I  hope,  not  unprepared  to  meet  his 
judge. — Your  attention,  dear  Sir,  and  that  of  Dr.  He- 
berden, to  my  health,  is  extremely  kind,  I  am  loath 
to  think  that  1  grow  worse  ;  and  cannot  fairly  prove 
even  to  my  own  partiality,  that  I  grow  much  better." 

August  5.  "  1  return  you  thanks,  dear  Sir,  for  your 
unwearied  attention,  both  medicinal  and  friendly,  and 
hope  to  prove  the  effect  of  your  care  by  living  to  ac- 
knowledge it." 

August  12.  "  Pray  be  so  kind  as  to  have  me  in 
your  thoughts,  and  mention  my  case  to  others  as  you 

"*  At  the  Essex  Head,  Essex-street. 
■  Mr.  Allen,  the  prmter. 

VOL.    ITT.  .5.5 


4.'34  THE    LIFE    OF 

^784.  have  opportunity.  I  seetn  to  myself  neither  to  gain 
^J^  nor  lose  strength.  1  have  lately  tried  milk,  but  have 
75.  yet  found  no  advantage,  and  am  afraid  of  it  merely  as  a 
liquid.  My  appetite  is  still  good,  which  1  know  is  dear 
Dr.  Heberden's  criterion  of  the  vis  vitce. — As  we  cannot 
now  see  each  other,  do  not  omit  to  write,  for  you  can- 
not think  with  what  warmth  of  expectation  1  reckon 
the  hours  of  a  post-day."  ^ 

August  14.  "1  have  hitherto  sent  you  only  melan- 
choly letters,  you  will  be  glad  to  hear  some  better 
account.  Yesterday  the  asthma  remitted,  perceptibly 
remitted,  and  I  moved  with  more  ease  than  I  have  en- 
joyed for  many  weeks.  May  God  continue  his  mercy. 
— This  account  I  would  not  delay,  because  I  am  not  a 
lover  of  complaints,  or  complainers,  and  yet  I  have  since 
we  parted,  uttered  nothing  till  now  but  terrour  and  sor- 
row.    Write  to  me,  dear  Sir." 

August  16.  "  Better  I  hope,  and  better.  My  res- 
piration gets  more  and  more  ease  and  liberty.  I  went 
to  church  yesterday,  after  a  very  liberal  dinner,  without 
any  inconvenience  ;  it  is  indeed  no  long  walk,  but  I 
never  walked  it  without  difficulty,  since  I  came,  before. 
******  the  intention  was  only  to  overpower  the 
seeming  vis  Iner/iceo^  the  pectoral  and  pulmonary  mus- 
cles.— I  am  favoured  with  a  desfree  of  ease  that  verv 
much  delights  me,  and  do  not  despair  of  another  race 
upon  the  stairs  of  the  Academy. — If  I  were,  however, 
of  a  humour  to  see,  or  to  show  the  state  of  my  body, 
on  the  dark  side,  I  might  say, 

'  Quid  te  exempta  juvat  sjnnis  de  phtribus  una  ?' 

The  nights  are  still  sleepless,  and  the  water  rises, 
though  it  does  not  rise  very  fast.  Let  us,  however, 
rejoice  in  all  the  good  that  we  have.  The  remission 
of  one  disease  will  enable  nature  to  combat  the  rest. — 
The  squills  1  have  not  neglected  ;  for  I  have  taken 
more  than  a  hundred  drops  a  day,  and  one  day  took 
two  hundred  and  fifty,  which,  according  to  the  popular 
equivalent  of  a  drop  to  a  grain,  is  more  than  half  an 
ounce. — I  thank  you,  dear  Sir,  for  your  attention  in 
ordering  the  medicines  ;  your  attention  to  me  has  never 


DR.    JOHNSON.  435 

failed.  If  the  virtue  of  medicines  could  be  enforced  i784. 
by  the  benevolence  of  the  prescriber,  how  soon  should  ^^ 
Tbe  well."  75.  ' 

August  19.  "  The  relaxation  of  the  asthma  still 
continues,  yet  I  do  not  trust  it  wholly  to  itself,  but 
soothe  it  now  and  then  with  an  opiate.  I  not  only 
perform  the  perpetual  act  of  respiration  with  less  labour, 
but  I  can  walk  with  fewer  intervals  of  rest,  and  with 
greater  freedom  of  motion. — I  never  thought  well  of 
Dr.  James's  compounded  medicines  ;  his  ingredients 
appear  to  me  sometimes  inefficacious  and  trifling,  and 
sometimes  heterogeneous  and  destructive  of  each  other. 
This  prescription  exhibits  a  composition  of  about  three 
hundred  and  thirty  grains,  in  which  there  are  four 
grains  of  emetick  tartar,  and  six  drops  [of]  thebaick 
tincture.  He  that  writes  thus  surely  writes  for  show. 
The  basis  of  his  medicine  is  the  gum  ammoniacum. 
which  dear  Dr.  Lawrence  used  to  give,  but  of  which 
I  never  saw  any  effect.  We  will,  if  you  please,  let  this 
medicine  alone.  The  squills  have  every  suffrage,  and 
in  the  squills  we  will  rest  for  the  present." 

August  21.  "The  kindness  which  you  show  by 
having  me  in  your  thoughts  upon  all  occasions,  will,  I 
hope,  always  fill  my  heart  with  gratitude.  Be  pleased 
to  return  my  thanks  to  Sir  George  Baker,  for  the  con- 
sideration which  he  has  bestowed  upon  me. — Is  this 
the  balloon  that  has  been  so  long  expected,  this  bal- 
loon to  which  I  subscribed,  but  without  payment  ?  it  is 
pity  that  philosophers  have  been  disappointed,  and 
shame  that  they  have  been  cheated  ;  but  1  know  not 
well  how  to  prevent  either.  Of  this  experiment  I  have 
read  nothing  ;  where  was  it  exhibited!  and  who  was 
the  man  that  ran  away  with  so  much  money  ! — Con- 
tinue, dear  Sir,  to  write  often  and  more  at  a  time  ;  for 
none  of  your  prescriptions  operate  to  their  proper  uses 
more  certainly  than  your  letters  operate  as  cordials." 

August  26.  "  1  suffered  you  to  escape  last  post 
without  a  letter,  but  you  are  not  to  expect  such  indul- 
gence very  often  ;  for  I  write  not  so  much  because  I 
have  any  thing  to  say,  as  because  1  hope  for  an  answer^ 
and   the   vacancy   of  my  life  here    makes  a  letter   of 


436  THE    LIFE    OP 

1784.  great  value.— I  have  here  little  company  and  little 
^jj^  amusement,  and  thus  abandoned  to  the  contemplation 
75.  of  my  own  miseries,  I  am  something  gloomy  and  de- 
pressed ;  this  too  1  resist  as  1  can,  and  find  opium,  I 
think,  useful,  but  I  seldom  fake  more  than  one  grain. — 
Is  not  this  strange  weather  ?  Winter  absorbed  the 
spring,  and  now  autumn  is  come  before  we  have  had 
summer.  But  let  not  our  kindness  for  each  other  imi- 
tate the  inconstancy  of  the  seasons." 

Sept.  2.  "  Mr.  Windham  has  been  here  to  see  me  ; 
he  came,  1  think,  forty  miles  out  of  his  way,  and  staid 
about  a  day  and  a  half,  perhaps  1  make  the  time  shorter 
than  it  was.  Such  conversation  I  shall  not  have  again 
till  [  come  back  to  the  regions  of  literature ;  and  there 
Windham  is,  inter  Stellas'^  Lima  minores"  He  then 
mentions  the  effects  of  certain  medicines,  as  taken  ; 
that  "  Nature  is  recovering  its  original  powers,  and  the 
functions  returning  to  their  proper  state.  God  contin- 
ue his  mercies,  and  grant  me  to  use  them  rightly." 

Sept.  9-  "  Do  you  know  the  Duke  and  Duchess  of 
Devonshire  1  And  have  you  ever  seen  Chatsworth  ?  I 
was  at  Chatsworth  on  Monday  :  1  had  seen  it  before, 
but  never  when  its  owner  was  at  home  ;  I  was  very 
kindly  received,  and  honestly  pressed  to  stay  ;  but  I 
told  them  that  a  sick  man  is  not  a  fit  inmate  of  a  great 
house.     But  1  hope  to  go  again  some  time." 

Sept.  11 .  "  I  think  nothing  grows  worse,  but  all  rather 
better,  except  sleep,  and  that  of  late  has  been  at  its  old 
pranks.  Last  evening,  1  felt  what  I  had  not  known  for 
a  long  time,  an  inclination  to  walk  for  amusement  ;  I 
took  a  short  walk,  and  came  back  again  neither  breath- 
less nor  fatigued. — This  has  been  a  gloomy,  frigid,  un- 
genial  summer,  but  of  late  it  seems  to  mend  ;  1  hear 
the  heat  sometimes  mentioned,  but  1  do  not  feel  it ; 

'  Prceterea  minimus  gelido  jam  in  corpore  sanguis 
*  Febre  calet  sold!' 

I  hope,  however,  with  good  help,  to  find  means  of  sup- 

'  It  is  remarkable  that  so  good  a  Latin  scholar  as  Johnson,  should  have  been 
«q  inattentive  to  tlie  metre,  as  by  mistake  to  have  written  stellas  instead  of  ignes. 


DR.   JOHNSON.  437 

porting  a  winter  at  home,  and  to  hear  and  tell  at  the  1784. 
Club  what  is  doing,  and  what  ought  to  be  doing  in  the^^ 
world.     I  have  no  company  here,  and  shall  naturally   75. 
come  home  hungry  for  conversation. — To  wish  you, 
dear  Sir,  more  leisure,  would  not  be  kind  ;  but  what 
leisure  you  have,  you  must  bestow  upon  me." 

Sept.  16.  "1  have  now  let  you  alone  for  along  time, 
having  indeed  little  to  say.  You  charge  me  somewhat 
unjustly  with  luxury.  At  Chatsworth,  you  should  re- 
member, that  1  have  eaten  but  once  ;  and  the  Dpctor, 
with  whom  1  live,  follows  a  milk  diet.  1  grow  no  fat- 
ter, though  my  stomach,  if  it  be  not  disturbed  by  phys- 
ick,  never  fails  me. — I  now  grow  weary  of  solitude,  and 
think  of  removing  next  week  to  Lichfield,  a  place  of 
more  society,  but  otherwise  of  less  convenience.  When 
I  am  settled,  1  shall  write  again. — Of  the  hot  weather 
that  you  mentioned,  we  have  [not]  had  in  Derbyshire 
very  much,  and  for  myself  1  seldom  feel  heat,  and  sup- 
pose that  my  frigidity  is  the  effect  of  my  distemper  ;  a 
supposition  which  naturally  leads  me  to  hope  that  a 
hotter  climate  may  be  useful.  But  1  hope  to  stand 
another  English  winter. 

Lichfield,  Sept.  29-  "  On  one  day  I  had  three  letters 
about  the  air  balloon :  yours  was  far  the  best,  and  has 
enabled  me  to  impart  to  my  friends  in  the  country  an 
idea  of  this  species  of  amusement.  In  amusement, 
mere  amusement,  1  am  afraid  it  must  end,  for  1  do  not 
find  that  its  course  can  be  directed  so  as  that  it  should 
serve  any  purposes  of  communication  :  and  it  can  give 
no  new  intelligence  of  the  state  of  the  air  at  different 
heights,  till  they  have  ascended  above  the  height  of 
mountains,  which  they  seem  never  hkely  to  do. — I 
came  hither  on  the  27th.  How  long  I  shall  stay,  I 
have  not  determined.  My  dropsy  is  gone,  and  my  asth- 
ma much  remitted,  but  I  have  felt  myself  a  little  declin- 
ing these  two  days,  or  at  least  to-day  ;  but  such  vicissi- 
tudes must  be  expected.  One  day  may  be  worse  than 
another  ;  but  this  last  month  is  far  better  than  the 
former  ;  if  the  next  should  be  as  much  better  than  this, 
I  shall  run  about  the  town  on  my  own  legs." 


k 


438   '  THE    LIFE    OF 

1784.  October  6.  "  The  fate  of  the  balloon  I  do  not  much 
J2^  lament  :  to  make  new  balloons,  is  to  repeat  the  jest 
75.  '  again.  We  now  know  a  method  of  mounting  into  the 
air,  and,  I  think,  are  not  likely  to  know  more.  The  ve- 
hicles can  serve  no  use  till  we  can  guide  them  ;  and 
they  can  gratify  no  curiosity  till  we  mount  with  them 
to  greater  heights  than  we  can  reach  without ;  till  we 
rise  above  the  tops  of  the  highest  mountains,  which  we 
have  yet  not  done.  We  know  the  state  of  the  air  in  all 
its  regions,  to  the  top  of  Teneriffe,  and  therefore,  learn 
nothing  from  those  who  navigate  a  balloon  below  the 
clouds.  The  first  experiment,  however,  was  bold,  and 
deserved  applause  and  reward.  But  since  it  has  beet^ 
performed,  and  its  event  is  known,  1  had  rather  now 
find  a  medicine  that  can  ease  an  asthma." 

October  2o.  "  You  write  to  me  with  a  zeal  that  an- 
imates, and  a  tenderness  that  melts  me.  I  am  not 
afraid  either  of  a  journey  to  London,  or  a  residence  in 
it.  1  came  down  with  little  fatigue,  and  am  now  not 
weaker.  In  the  smoky  atmosphere  I  was  delivered 
from  the  dropsy,  which  I  consider  as  the  original  and 
radical  disease.  The  town  is  m^^^^iaa^l  ;^  there  are 
my  friends,  there  are  my  books, To  which  I  have  not  yet 
bid  farewell,  and  there  are  my  amusements.  Sir  .loshua 
told  me  long  ago,  that  my  vocation  was  to  publick  life, 
and  1  hope  still  to  keep  my  station,  till  God  shall  bid 
me  Go  in  peace."  * 

To  Mr.  HooLE.  Ashbourne,  Aug.  7-  "  Since  I 
was  here,  I  have  two  little  letters  from  you,  and  have" 
not  had  the  gratitude  to  write.  But  every  man  is  most 
free  with  his  best  friends,  because  he  does  not  suppose 
that  they  can  suspect  him  of  intentional  incivility. — 
One  reason  for  my  omission  is,  that  being  in  a  place  to 

■  His  love  of  London  continually  appears.  In  a  letter  from  him  to  Mrs.  Smart, 
wife  of  his  friend  the  Poet,  which  is  published  in  a  well-written  life  of  him,  pre- 
fixed to  an  edition  of  his  Poems,  in  1791,  there  is  the  following  sentence:  "To 
one  that  has  passed  so  many  years  in  the  pleasures  and  opulence  of  London,  there 
are  few  places  that  can  give  much  delight." 

Once,  upon  reading  that  line  in  the  curious  epitaph  quoted  in  "  The  Spectator." 
"  Born  in  New-England,  did  in  London  die  :" 
he  laughed  and  said,  "  I  do  not  wonder  at  this.     It  would  have  been  strange,  if 
born  in  London,  he  had  died  in  New-England." 


DR.    JOHNSON.  439 

which  you  are  wholly  a  stranger,  I   have  no  topicks  of  1784. 
correspondence.     If  you  had  any  knowledge  of  Ash-  ^J^ 
bourne,  1  could  tell  you  of  two  Ashbourne  men,  who,   75. 
being  last  week  condemned  at  Derby  to  be  hanged  for 
a  robbery,  went  and  hanged  themselves  in  their  cell. 
But  this,  however  it  may  supply  us  with  talk,  is  noth-     ' 
ing  to  you. — Your  kindness,  I  know,  would  make  you 
glad  to  hear  some  good  of  me,  but  I   have  not  much 
good  to  tell  ;  if  1  grow  not  worse,   it  is  all  that  I  can 
say. — {  hope  Mrs.  Hoole  receives  more  help  from  her 
migration.    Make  her  my  compliments,  and  write  again 
to,  dear  Sir,  your  affectionate  servant." 

Aug.  13.  "I  thank  you  for  your  affectionate  letter. 
I  hope  we  shall  both  be  the  better  for  each  other's  friend- 
ship, and  I  hope  we  shall  not  very  quickly  be  parted. — Tell 
Mr.  Nichols  that  I  shall  be  glad  of  his  correspondence, 
when  his  business  allows  him  a  little  remission  ;  though 
to  wish  him  less  business,  that  I  may  have  more  pleas- 
ure, would  be  too  selfish. — To  pay  for  seats  at  the  bal- 
loon is  not  very  necessary,  because  in  less  than  a  min- 
ute, they  who  gaze  at  a  mile's  distance  will  see  all  that 
can  be  seen.  About  the  wings  I  am  of  your  mind  ; 
they  cannot  at  all  assist  it,  nor  I  think  regulate  its  mo- 
tion.— I  am  now  grown  somewhat  easier  in  my  body, 
but  my  mind  is  some  times  depressed. — About  the  Club 
I  am  in  no  great  pain.  The  forfeitures  go  on,  and  the 
house,  1  hear,  is  improved  for  our  future  meetings.  I 
hope  we  shall  meet  often  and  sit  long." 

Sept.  4.  "  Your  letter  was,  indeed,  long  in  coming, 
but  it  was  very  welcome.  Our  acquaintance  has  now 
subsisted  long,  and  our  recollection  of  each  other  in- 
volves a  great  space,  and  many  little  occurrences,  which 
melt  the  thoughts  to  tenderness. — Write  to  me,  there- 
fore, as  frequently  as  you  can. — I  hear  from  Dr.  Brock- 
lesby  and  Mr.  Ryland,  that  the  Club  is  not  crouded.  I 
hope  we  shall  enliven  it  when  winter  brings  us  together.'^ 

To  Dr.  Burney.  August  2.  "  The  weather,  you 
know,  has  not  been  balmy  ;  I  am  now  reduced  to  think, 
and  am  at  last  content  to  talk  of  the  weather.      Pride 


44^0  THE    LIFE    OF 

1784.  must  have  a  fall.* — I  have  lost  dear  Mr.  Allen  ;  and 
^ry  wherever  1  turn,  the  dead  or  the  dying  meet  m/  notice, 
75  *  and  force  my  attention  upon  misery  and  mortality.  Mrs. 
Burney's  escape  from  so  much  clanger,  and  her  ease 
after  so  much  pain,  throws,  however,  some  radiance  of 
hope  upon  the  gloomy  prospect.  May  her  recovery  be 
perfect,  and  her  continuance  long. —  [struggle  hard  for 
life.  1  take  physick,  and  take  air ;  my  friend's  chariot 
is  always  ready. — We  have  run  this  morning  twenty- 
four  miles,  and  could  run  forty-eight  more.  Buf  x<oho 
can  run  the  race  with  death  /" 

Sept.  4.  [Concerning  a  private  transaction,  in  which 
his  opinion  was  asked,  and  after  giving  it,  he  makes  the 
following  reflections,  which  are  applicable  on  other  oc- 
casions.] "  Nothing  deserves  more  compassion  than,, 
wrong  conduct  with  good  meaning  ;  than  loss  or  oblo- 
quy suffered  by  one,  who,  as  he  is  conscious  only  of 
good  intentions,  wonders  why  he  loses  that  kindness 
which  he  wishes  to  preserve  ;  and  not  knowing  his  own 
fault,  if,  as  may  sometimes  happen,  nobody  will  tell  him, 
goes  on  to  offend  by  his  endeavours  to  please. — 1  am 
delighted  by  finding  that  our  opinions  are  the  same. — 
You  will  do  me  a  real  kindness  by  continuing  to  write. 
A  post-day  has  now  been  long  a  day  of  recreation." 

Nov.  1.  "  Our  correspondence  paused  for  want  of 
topicks.  1  had  said  what  I  had  to  say  on  the  matter 
proposed  to  my  consideration  ;  and  nothing  remained 
but  to  tell  you,  that  I  waked  or  slept ;  that  1  was  more 
or  less  sick.  1  drew  my  thoughts  in  upon  myself,  and 
supposed  yours  employed  upon  your  book. — That  your 
book  has  been  delayed  1  am  glad,  since  you  have 
gained  an  opportunity  of  being  more  exact. — Of  the 
caution  necessary  in  adjusting  narratives  there  is  no  end. 
Some  tell  what  they  do  not  know,  that  they  may  not 

^  There  was  no  information  for  which  Dr.  Johnson  was  less  grateful  than  for 
that  which  concerned  the  weather.  It  was  in  allusion  to  his  impatience  witii 
those  who  were  reduced  to  keep  conversation  alive  by  observations  on  the  weather, 
that  he  applied  the  old  proverb  to  himself.  If  any  one  of  his  intimate  acquaint- 
ance told  him  it  was  hot  or  cold,  wet  or  dry,  windy  or  calm,  he  would  stop  ihem„ 
baying,  "  Poll !  poh  !  you  are  telling  us  that  of  which  none  but  men  in  a  mine  or 
a  dungeon  can  be  ignorant.  Let  us  bear  with  patience,  or  enjoy  in  quiet,  ele- 
mentary changes,  whether  for  the  better  or  the  worse,  as  they  are  never  se- 
crets."    R. 


DR.   JOHNSON.  441 

seem  ignorant,  and  others  from  mere  indifference  about  1784. 
truth.  All  truth  is  not,  indeed,  of  equal  importance  ;  ^^ 
but,  if  little  violations  are  allowed,  every  violation  will  75.* 
in  time  be  thought  little  ;  and  a  writer  should  keep 
himself  vigilantly  on  his  guard  against  the  first  tempta- 
tions to  negligence  or  supineness. — 1  had  ceased  to 
write,  because  respecting  you  1  had  no  more  to  say,  and 
respecting  myself  could  say  little  good.  1  cannot  boast 
of  advancement,  and  in  case  of  convalescence  it  may 
be  said,  with  few  exceptions,  non  pt^ogredi,  est  regredi. 
I  hope  1  may  be  excepted. — My  great  difficulty  was 
with  my  sweet  Fanny,  ^  who,  by  her  artifice  of  inserting 
her  letter  in  yours,  had  given  me  a  precept  of  frugality 
which  1  was  not  at  liberty  to  neglect ;  and  1  know  not 
who  were  in  town  under  whose  cover  1  could  send  my 
letter.  1  rejoice  to  hear  that  you  are  so  well,  and  have 
a  delight  particularly  sympathetick  in  the  recovery  of 
Mrs.  Burney." 

To  Mr.  Laington.  Aug.  2v5.  "  The  kindness  of 
your  last  letter,  and  my  omission  to  answer  it,  begins 
to  give  you,  even  in  my  opinion,  a  right  to  recriminate, 
and  to  charge  me  with  forgetfulness  for  the  absent.  I 
will,  therefore,  delay  no  longer  to  give  an  account  of 
myself,  and  wish  1  could  relate  what  would  please 
either  myself  or  my  friend. — On  July  13,  I  left  Lon- 
don, partly  in  hope  of  help  from  new  air  and  change  of 
place,  and  partly  excited  by  the  sick  man's  impatience 
of  the  present.  I  got  to  Lichfield  in  a  stage  vehicle, 
with  very  little  fatigue,  in  two  days,  and  had  the  con- 
solation' to  find,  that  since  my  last  visit  my  three  old 
acquaintance  are  all  dead. — July  20,  I  went  to  Ash- 
bourne, where  I  have  been  till  now  ;  the  house  in 
which  we  live  is  repairing.  I  live  in  too  much  soli- 
tude, and  am  often  deeply  dejected  :  I  wish  we  were 
nearer,  and  rejoice  in  your  removal  to  Lo«jdon.       A 

,    '  The  celebrated  Miss  Fanny  Burney.  ^ 

'  [Probably  some  word  has  been  here  omitted  before  consolation  ;  perhaps  sad, 
ar  miserable  ;  or  the  word  consolation,  has  been  printed  by  mistake,  instead  of  mor- 
tification : — but  the  original  letter  not  being  now  [17981  in  Mr.  Langton's  hands, 
the  errour  (if  it  be  one)  cannot  be  corrected.     M.] 

TOL.  IIT.  56 


442  THE    LIFE    OF 

1784.  friend,  at  once  cheerful  and  serious,  is  a  great  acquisi- 
^J^  tion.  Let  us  not  neglect  one  another  for  the  little 
75.  time  which  Providence  allows  us  to  hope. — Of  my 
health  I  cannot  tell  you,  what  my  wishes  persuaded 
me  to  expect,  that  it  is  much  improved  by  the  season 
or  by  remedies.  I  am  sleepless  ;  my  legs  grow  weary 
with  a  very  few  steps,  and  the  water  breaks  its  bounda- 
ries in  some  degree.  The  asthma,  however,  has  remit- 
ted ;  my  breath  is  still  much  obstructed,  but  is  more 
free  than  it  was.  Nights  of  watchfulness  produce 
torpid  days  ;  I  read  very  little,  though  1  am  alone  ;  for 
I  am  tempted  to  supply  in  the  day  what  !  lost  in  bed. 
This  is  my  history  ;  like  all  other  histories,  a  narrative 
of  misery.  Yet  I  am  so  much  better  than  in  the  be- 
ginning of  the  year,  that  I  ought  to  be  ashamed  of  com- 
plaining. 1  now  sit  and  write  with  very  little  sensibil- 
ity of  pain  or  weakness  ;  but  when  I  rise,  1  shall  find 
my  legs  betraying  me.  Of  the  money  which  you 
mentioned,  I  have  no  immediate  need,  keep  it,  how- 
ever for  me,  unless  some  exigence  requires  it.  Your 
papers  I  will  shew  you  certainly,  when  you  would  see 
them  ;  but  I  am  a  little  angry  at  you  for  not  keeping 
minutes  of  your  own  acceptum  et  expensum^  and  think 
a  little  time  might  be  spared  from  Aristophanes,  for  the 
res  familiar  es.  Forgive  me,  for  1  mean  well.  1  hope, 
dear  Sir,  that  you  and  Lady  Rothes,  and  all  the  young 
people,  too  many  to  enumerate,  are  well  and  happy. 
God  bless  you  all." 

To  Mr.  AVindham.  August.  "  The  tenderness 
with  which  you  have  been  pleased  to  treat  me,  through 
my  long  illness,  neither  health  nor  sickness  can,  1  hope, 
make  me  forget  ;  and  you  are  not  to  suppose,  that 
after  we  parted  you  were  no  longer  in  my  mind.  But 
what  can  a  sick  man  say,  but  that  he  is  sick  ?  His 
thoughts  are  necessarily  concentered  in  himself :  he 
neither  receives  nor  can  give  delight ;  his  enquiries  are 
after  allieviations  of  pain,  and  his  efforts  are  to  catch 
some  momentary  comfort. — Though  I  am  now  in  the 
neigh l:)ourhood  of  the  Peak,  you  must  expect  no  ac- 
count of  its  wonders,  of  its  hills,  its  waters,  its  caverns. 


DR.  JOHNSOX.  443 

or  its  mines  ;  but  I  will  tell  you,  dear  Sir,  what  I  hope  1784. 
you  will  not  hear  with  less  satisfaction,  that,  for  about  ^^ 
a  week  past,  my  asthma  has  been  less  afflictive."  75.  * 

Lichfield,  October  2.  "  I  believe  you  had  been  long 
enough  acquainted  with  the  phcenomena  of  sickness, 
not  to  be  surprised  that  a  sick  man  wishes  to  be  where 
he  is  not,  and  where  it  appears  to  every  body  but  him- 
self that  he  might  easily  be,  without  having  the  resolu- 
tion to  remove.  I  thought  Ashbourne  a  solitary  place, 
but  did  not  come  hither  till  last  Monday. — 1  have  here 
more  company,  but  my  health  has  for  this  last  week 
not  advanced  ;  and  in  the  languor  of  disease  how  little 
can  be  done  \  Whither  or  when  I  shall  make  my  next 
remove,  I  cannot  tell  ;  but  1  entreat  you,  dear  Sir,  to 
let  me  know  from  time  to  time,  where  you  may  be 
found,  for  your  residence  is  a  very  powerful  attractive 
to,  Sir,  your  most  humble  servant." 

"  TO  MR.   PERKINS. 
"  DEAR  SIR, 

"  I  CANNOT  but  flatter  myself  that  your  kindness 
for  me  will  make  you  glad  to  know  where  I  am,  and  in 
what  state. 

"  1  have  been  struggling  very  hard  with  my  diseases. 
My  breath  has  been  very  much  obstructed,  and  the 
water  has  attempted  to  encroach  upon  me  again.  I 
past  the  first  part  of  the  summer  at  Oxford,  afterwards 
I  went  to  Lichfield,  thence  to  Ashbourne,  in  Derby- 
shire, and  a  week  ago  1  returned  to  Lichfield. 

"  My  breath  is  now  much  easier,  and  the  water  is  in 
a  great  measure  run  away,  so  that  I  hope  to  see  you 
again  before  winter. 

"  Please  make  my  compliments  to  Mrs.  Perkins,  and 
to  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Barclay.     I  am,  dear  Sir, 

"  Your  most  humble  servant, 
"  LicJifield,  Oct.  4,  1784.  "  Sam.  Johnson." 


444 


THE    LIFE    OF 


^784.  tc  ^Q  ^jjj,  jjjQjj^  jjQjj     WILLIAM   GERARD  HAMILTON. 
y^  "  DEAR  SIR, 

"  Considering  what  reason  you  gave  me  in  the 
spring  to  conclude  that  you  took  part  in  whatever  good 
or  evil  might  befall  me,  1  ought  not  to  have  omitted  so 
long  the  account  which  I  am  now  about  to  give  you. — 
My  diseases  are  an  asthma  and  a  dropsy,  and,  what  is 
less  curable,  seventy-five.  Of  the  dropsy,  in  the  be- 
ginning of  the  summer,  or  in  the  spring,  1  recovered  to 
a  degree  which  struck  with  wonder  both  me  and  my 
physicians :  the  asthma  now  is  likewise,  for  a  time, 
very  much  relieved.  1  went  to  Oxford,  where  the 
asthma  was  very  tyrannical,  and  the  dropsy  began  again 
to  threaten  me  ;  but  seasonable  physick  stopped  the 
inundation  :  1  then  returned  to  London,  and  in  July 
took  a  resolution  to  visit  Staffordshire  and  Derbyshire, 
where  I  am  yet  struggling  with  my  disease.  The 
dropsy  made  another  attack,  and  was  not  easily  ejected, 
but  at  last  gave  way.  The  asthma  suddenly  remitted 
in  bed,  on  the  13th  of  August,  and,  though  now  very 
oppressive,  is,  1  think,  still  something  gentler  than  it 
was  before  the  remission.  My  limbs  are  miserably 
debilitated,  and  my  nights  are  sleepless  and  tedious. — 
AVhen  you  read  this,  dear  Sir,  you  are  not  sorry  that  I 
wrote  no  sooner.  1  will  not  prolong  my  complaints. 
I  hope  still  to  see  you  hi  a  huppier  hour^  to  talk  over 
what  we  have  often  talked,  and  perhaps  to  find  new 
topicks  of  merriment,  or  new  incitements  to  curiosity. 

"  1  am,  dear  Sir,  &c. 
"  Lichfield,  Oct.  20,  1784.  ^'  Sam.  Johnson." 

"  TO  JOHN  paradise,    ESQ.* 
"  DEAR  SIR, 

"  Though  in  all  my  summer's  excursion  1  have 
given  you   no  account  of  myself,   I  hope  you   think 


^  Son  of  the  late  Peter  Paradise,  Esq.  his  Britannick  Majesty's  Consul  at  Salonica, 
in  Macedonia,  by  his  lady,  a  native  of  that  country.  He  studied  at  Oxford,  and 
has  been  honoured  by  that  University  with  the  degree  of  LL.  D.  He  is  distin- 
guished not  only  by  lus  learning  and  talents,  but  by  an  amiable  disposition,  gei\- 


DR.    JOHNSON.  445 

better  of  me  than  to  imagine  it  possible  for  me  to  forget  ^784. 
you,  whose  kindness  to  me  has  been  too  great  and  too  ^^ 
constant  not  to  have  made  its  impression  on  a  harder  75. 
breast  than  mine. — Silence  is  not  very  culpable,  when 
nothing  pleasing  is  suppressed.  It  would  have  allevi- 
ated none  of  your  complaints  to  have  read  my  vicissi- 
tudes of  evil.  1  have  struggled  hard  with  very  formi- 
dable and  obstinate  maladies;  and  though  I  cannot  talk 
of  health,  think  all  praise  due  to  my  Creator  and  Pre- 
server for  the  continuance  of  my  life.  The  dropsy  has 
made  two  attacks,  and  has  given  way  to  medicine  ;  the 
asthma  is  very  oppressive,  but  that  has  likewise  once 
remitted.  I  am  very  weak,  and  very  sleepless  ;  but  it 
is  time  to  conclude  the  tale  of  misery. — I  hope,  dear 
Sir,  that  you  grow  hetter,  for  you  have  likewise  your 
share  of  human  evil,  and  that  your  lady  and  the  young 
charmers  are  well. 

"  I  am,  dear  Sir,  &c. 
'' Lic/i^eld,  Oct.  27,  1784.  "  Sam.  Johnson." 

"  TO  MR.  GEORGE  NICOL.^ 
"  DEAR  SIR, 

"Since  we  parted,  I  have  been  much  oppressed 
by  my  asthma,  but  it  has  lately  been  less  laborious. 
When  1  sit  1  am  almost  at  ease,  and  I  can  walk,  though 
yet  very  little,  with  less  difficulty  for  this  week  past, 
than  before.  I  hope  I  shall  again  enjoy  my  friends,  and 
that  you  and  I  shall  have  a  little  more  literary  conversa- 
tion.— Where  I  now  am,  every  thing  is  very  liberally 
provided  for  me  but  conversation.  My  friend  is  sick 
himself,  and  the  reciprocation  of  complaints  and  groans 
afford  not  much  of  either  pleasure  or  instruction.  What 
we  have  not  at  home  this  town  does  not  supply,  and  I 
shall  be  glad  of  a  little  imported  intelligence,  and  hope 

tleness  of  manners,  and  a  very  general  acquaintance  with  well  informed  and  accom- 
plished persons  of  almost  all  nations. 

(Mr.  Paradise  died,  December  12,  1795.     M.] 
'  3ookseller  to  his  Majesty, 


446 


THE    LIFE    OF 


1784.  that  you   will   bestow,  now  and  then,  a  little  time  on 
]JJ^the  relief  and  entertainment  of,  Sir, 
75.'  "  Yours,  &c. 

"  Ashbourne,  Aug.  19,  17S4.         "  Sam.  Johnson." 


"  TO  MR.  CRUIKSHANK. 
"  DEAR  SIR, 

"  Do  not  suppose  that  I  forget  you  ;  I  hope  I  shall 
never  be  accused  of  forgetting  my  benefactors.  I  had, 
till  lately,  nothing  to  write  but  complaints  upon  com- 
plaints, of  miseries  upon  miseries;  but  within  this  fort- 
night I  have  received  great  relief. — Have  your  Lecturers 
any  vacation  ?  If  you  are  released  from  the  necessity  of 
daily  study,  you  may  find  time  for  a  letter  to  me. — [In 
this  letter  he  states  the  particulars  of  his  case.] — In  re- 
turn for  this  account  of  my  health  let  me  have  a  good 
account  of  yours,  and  of  your  prosperity  in  all  your  un- 
dertakings. 

"  1  am,  dear  Sir,  yours,  &c. 
"  Ashbourne,  Sept.  4,  1784.  "  Sam.  Johnson." 

To  Mr.  Thomas  Davies.  August  14. — "  The  ten- 
derness with  which  you  always  treat  me,  makes  me 
culpable  in  my  own  eyes  for  having  omitted  to  write  in 
so  long  a  separation  ;  1  had,  indeed,  nothing  to  say  that 
you  could  wish  to  hear.  All  has  been  hitherto  misery 
accumulated  upon  misery,  disease  corroborating  disease, 
till  yesterday  my  asthma  was  perceptibly  and  unexpect- 
edly mitigated.  1  am  much  comforted  with  this  short 
relief,  and  am  willing  to  flatter  myself  that  it  may  con- 
tinue and  improve.  1  have  at  present,  such  a  degree  of 
ease,  as  not  only  may  admit  the  comforts,  but  the  duties 
of  life.  Make  my  compliments  to  Mrs.  Davies. — Poor 
dear  Allen,  he  was  a  good  man." 

To  Sir  Joshua  Reynolds.  Ashbourne,  July  21. 
"  The  tenderness  with  which  1  am  treated  by  my  friends, 
make  it  reasonable  to  suppose  that  they  are  desirous  to 
know  the  state  of  my  health,  and  a  desire  so  benevolent 
ought  to  be  gratified. — I  came  to  Lichfield  in  two  days 


\ 


DR.   JOHNSON.  447 

Without  any  painful  fatigue,  and  on  Monday  came  hith- 1784. 
er,  where  i  purpose  to  stay  and  try  what  air  and  regu-  ^J^, 
iarity  will  effect.     I  cannot  yet  persuade  myself  that  I    75.* 
have  made  much   progress  in   recovery.     My  sleep  is 
little,   my  breath  is  very  much  encumbered,  and   my 
legs  are  verv  weak.     The  water  has  increased  a  little, 
but  has  again  run  off.     The  most  distressing  symptom 
is  want  of  sleep." 

August  19.  "  Having  had  since  our  separation,  little 
to  say  that  could  please  you  or  myself  by  saying,  1  have 
not  been  lavish  of  useless  letters  ;  but  I  flatter  myself 
that  you  will  partake  of  the  pleasure  with  which  1  can 
now  tell  you  that  about  a  week  ago,  1  felt  suddenly  a 
sensible  remission  of  my  asthma,  and  consequently  a 
greater  lightness  of  action  and  motion. — Of  this  grate- 
ful alleviation  I  know  not  the  cause,  nor  dare  depend 
upon  its  continuance,  but  while  it  lasts  I  endeavour  to 
enjoy  it,  and  am  desirous  of  communicating,  while  it 
lasts,  my  pleasure  to  my  friends. — Hitherto,  dear  Sir,  I 
had  written  before  the  post,  which  stays  in  this  town 
but  a  little  while,  brought  me  your  letter.  Mr.  Davies 
seems  to  have  represented  my  little  tendency  to  recov- 
ery in  terms  too  splendid.  I  am  still  restless,  still  weak, 
still  watery,  but  the  asthma  is  less  oppressive. — Poor 
Ramsay  !*  On  which  side  soever  1  turn,  mortality  pre- 
sents its  formidable  frown.  I  left  three  old  friends  at 
Lichfield,  when  I  was  last  there,  and  now  found  them 
all  dead.  I  no  sooner  lost  sight  of  dear  Allan,  than  I 
am  told  that  I  shall  see  him  no  more.  That  we  must 
all  die,  we  always  knew  ;  1  wish  1  had  sooner  remem- 
bered it.  Do  not  think  me  intrusive  or  importunate,  if 
I  now  call,  dear  Sir,  on  you  to  remember  it." 

Sept.  2.  "  I  am  glad  that  a  little  favour  from  the 
court  has  intercepted  your  furious  purposes.  I  could 
not  in  any  case  have  approved  such  publick  violence  of 
resentment,  and  should  have  considered  any  who  en^ 
couraged  it,  as  rather  seeking  sport  for  themselves,  than 
honour  for  you.  Resentment  gratifies  him  who  intend- 
ed an  injury,  and  pains  him  unjustly  who  did  not  in- 

••  Allan  Ramsay,  Esq.  painler  to  his  Majesty,  who  died  August  10,  1784,  in  the 
71st  year  of  his  age,  much  rej;retted  by  his  friends. 


44S  THE    LIFE    OF 

1784.  tend  it.  But  all  this  is  now  superfluous. — I  still  con- 
^t^  tinue  by  God's  mercy  to  mend.  My  breath  is  easier, 
75.  my  nights  are  quieter,  and  my  legs  are  less  in  bulk,  and 
stronger  in  use.  1  have,  however,  yet  a  great  deal  to 
overcome,  before  I  can  yet  attain  even  an  old  man's 
health. — Write,  do  write  to  me  now  and  then;  we  are 
now  old  acquaintance,  and  perhaps  few  people  have 
lived  so  much  and  so  long  together,  with  less  cause  of 
complaint  on  either  side.  The  retrospection  of  this  is 
very  pleasant,  and  1  hope  we  shall  never  think  on  each 
other  with  less  kindness." 

Sept.  9.  "  1  could  not  answer  your  letter  before  this 
day,  because  I  went  on  the  sixth  to  Chatsworth,  and 
did  not  come  back  till  the  post  was  gone. —  Many  words, 
I  hope,  are  not  necessary  between  you  and  me,  to 
convince  you  what  gratitude  is  excited  in  my  heart,  by 
the  Chancellor's  liberality  and  your  kind  offices.  1  did 
not  indeed  expect  that  what  was  asked  by  the  Chan- 
cellor would  have  been  refused,  but  since  it  has,  we 
will  not  tell  that  any  thing  has  been  asked. — 1  have 
enclosed  a  letter  to  the  Chancellor,  which,  when  you 
have  read  it,  you  will  be  pleased  to  seal  with  a  head, 
or  other  general  seal,  and  convey  it  to  him  ;  had  I  sent 
it  directly  to  him,  1  should  have  seemed  to  overlook 
the  favour  of  your  intervention. — My  last  letter  told 
you  of  my  advance  in  health,  which,  I  think,  in  the 
whole  still  continues.  Of  the  hydropick  tumour  there 
is  now  very  little  appearance  ;  the  asthma  is  much  less 
troublesome,  and  seems  to  remit  something  day  after 
day.  1  do  not  despair  of  supporting  an  English  winter. 
— At  Chatsworth,  1  met  young  Mr.  Burke,  who  led 
me  very  commodiously  into  conversation  with  the 
Duke  and  Duchess.  We  had  a  very  good  morning. 
The  dinner  was  publick." 

Sept.  IS.  "1  flattered  myself  that  this  week  would 
have  given  me  a  letter  from  you,  but  none  has  come. 
Write  to  me  now  and  then,  but  direct  your  next  to 
Lichfield. —  1  think,  and  1  hope  am  sure,  that  I  still 
grow  better  ;  1  have  sometimes  good  nights  ;  but  am 
still  in  my  legs  weak,  but  so  much  mended,  that  I  go 
to  Lichfield  in  hope  of  being  able  to  pay  my  visits  on 


DR.   JOHNSON.  449 

foot,  for  there  are  no  coaches. — I  have  three  letters  this  ^^4. 
day,  all  about  the  balloon,  I  could  have  been  content  ^^'^ 
with  one.     Do  not  write  about  the  balloon,  whatever  75. 
else  you  may  think  proper  to  say." 

October  2.  "1  am  always  proud  of  your  approba- 
tion, and  therefore  was  much  pleased  that  you  liked 
my  letter.  When  you  copied  it,  you  invaded  the 
Chancellor's  risfht  rather  than  mine. — The  refusal  I  did 
not  expect,  but  I  had  never  thought  much  about  it, 
for  1  doubted  whether  the  Chancellor  had  so  much 
tenderness  for  me  as  to  ask.  He,  being  keeper  of  the 
King's  conscience,  ought  not  to  be  supposed  capable 
of  an  improper  petition. — All  is  not  gold  that  glitters, 
as  we  have  often  been  told  ;  and  the  adage  is  verified 
in  your  place  and  my  favour;  but  if  what  happens  does 
not  make  us  richer,  we  must  bid  it  welcome,  if  it  makes 
us  wiser. — 1  do  not  at  present  grow  better,  nor  much 
worse  ;  my  hopes,  however,  are  somewhat  abated,  and 
a  very  great  loss  is  the  loss  of  hopp,  but  1  struggle  on 
as  1  can." 

To  Mr.  John  Nichols.  Lichfield,  Oct.  ^0. 
"  When  you  were  here,  you  were  pleased,  as  I  am  told, 
to  think  my  absence  an  inconvenience,  i  should  cer- 
tainly have  been  very  glad  to  give  so  skilful  a  lover  of 
antiquities  any  information  about  my  native  place,  of 
which,  however,  1  know  not  much,  and  have  reason  to 
believe  that  not  much  is  known. — Though  1  have  not 
given  you  any  amusement,  I  have  received  amusement 
from  you.  At  Ashbourne,  where  1  had  very  little 
company,  I  had  the  luck  to  borrow  'Mr.  Bowyer's 
Life;'  a  book  so  full  of  contemporary  history,  that  a 
literary  man  must  find  some  of  his  old  friends.  I 
thought  that  I  could,  now  and  then,  have  told  you 
some  hints  worth  your  notice ;  and  perhaps  we  may 
talk  a  life  over.  1  hope  we  shall  be  much  together; 
you  must  now  be  to  me  what  you  were  before,  and 
what  dear  Mr.  Allen  was,  besides.  He  was  taken 
unexpectedly  away,  but  1  think  he  was  a  very  good, 
man. — 1  have  made  little  progress  in  recovery.  I  am 
very  weak,  and  very  sleepless  :  but  1  live  on  and  hope." 

VOL.  ITT.  .57 


450  THE    LIFE    OF 

1784.  This  various  mass  of  correspondence,  which  I  have 
^g^  thus  brought  together,  is  valuable,  both  as  an  addition 
75.  to  the  store  which  the  publick  already  has  of  Johnson's 
writings,  and  as  exhibiting  a  genuine  and  noble  speci- 
men of  vigour  and  vivacity  of  mind,  which  neither  age 
nor  sickness  could  impair  or  diminish. 

It  may  be  observed,  that  his  writings  in  every  way, 
whether  for  the  publick,  or  privately  to  his  friends,  was 
by  fits  and  starts;  for  we  see  frequently,  that  many 
letters  are  written  on  the  same  day.  When  he  had 
once  overcome  his  aversion  to  begin,  he  was,  I  suppose, 
desirous  to  go  on,  in  order  to  relieve  his  mind  from  the 
uneasy  reflection  of  delaying  what  he  ought  to  do. 

While  in  the  country,  notwithstanding  the  accumu- 
lation of  illness  which  he  endured,  his  mind  did  not 
lose  its  powers.  He  translated  an  Ode  of  Horace, 
which  is  printed  in  his  works,  and  composed  several 
prayers.  I  shall  insert  one  of  them,  which  is  so  wise 
and  energetick,  so  philosophical  and  so  pious,  that  I 
doubt  not  of  its  afFordins:  consolation  to  manv  a  sincere 
Christian,  when  in  a  state  of  mind  to  which  1  believe 
the  best  are  sometimes  liable.^ 

And  here  I  am  enabled  fully  to  refute  a  very  unjust 
reflection,  by  Sir  John  Hawkins,  both  against  Dr.  John- 
son, and  his  faithful  servant,  Mr.  Francis  Barber  ;  as  if 
both  of  them  had  been  guilty  of  culpable  neglect  to- 
wards a  person  of  the  name  of  Heely,  whom  Sir  John 
chooses  to  call  a  relation  of  Dr.  Johnson's.  The  fact 
is,  that  Mr.  Heely  was  not  his  relation  ;  he  had  indeed 
been  married  to  one  of  his  cousins,  but  she  had  died 
without  having  children,  and  he  had  married  another 

'•  Against  inquisitive  and  perplexing  thoughts.  "  O  Lord,  my  Maker  and  Protector, 
who  hast  graciously  sent  me  into  this  world  to  work  out  my  salvation,  enable  me 
to  drive  from  me  all  such  unquiet  and  perplexing  thoughts  as  may  mislead  or  hin- 
der nie  in  tiie  practice  of  those  duties  which  Thou  hast  required.  When  I  behold 
the  works  of  thy  hands,  and  consider  the  course  of  thy  providence,  give  me  grace 
always  to  remember  that  thy  thoughts  are  not  my  thoughts,  nor  thy  ways  my 
ways.  And  while  it  shall  please  thee  to  continue  me  in  this  world,  where  much 
is  to  be  done,  and  little  to  be  known,  teach  me  by  thy  Holy  Spirit,  to  withdraw 
my  mind  from  unprofitable  and  dangerous  enquiries,  from  difficulties  vainly  curi- 
ous, and  doubts  impossible  to  be  solved.  Let  me  rejoice  in  the  light  which  Thou 
hast  imparted,  let  me  serve  Thee  with  active  zeal  and  humble  confidence,  and 
wait  with  patient  expectation  for  the  time  in  which  the  soul  which  Thou  receiv- 
est  shall  be  satisfied  with  knowledge.  Grant  this,  O  Lord,  for  Jesus  Christ's 
sake.    Amen." 


DR.   JOHNSON.  4Jl 

woman  ;  so  that  even  the  slight  connection  which  there  ^  784. 
once  had  been  by  ai/iance  was  dissolved.    Dr.  Johnson,  JJ^ 
wlio  had  shewn  very  great  liberality  to  this  man  while  his   75. 
first  w^ite  was  alive,  as  has  appeared  in  a  former  part  of 
this  work,''  was  humane  and  charitable  enough  to  con- 
tinue his  bounty  to  him  occasionally  ;  but  surely  there 
was  no  strong  call  of  duty  upon  him  or  upon  his  legatee, 
to  do  more.     The  following  letter,   obligingly  commu- 
nicated to  me  by  Mr.  Andrew  Strahan,   will  confirm 
what  i  have  stated  : 

"  TO  MR.    HEELY,    NO.    6,    IN  PYE-STREET,  WEST- 
MINSTER. 

"  SIR, 

"  As  necessity  obliges  you  to  call  so  soon  again 
upon  me,  you  should  at  least  have  told  the  smallest 
sum  that  will  supply  your  present  want ;  you  cannot 
suppose  that  I  have  much  to  spare.  Two  guineas  is  as 
much  as  you  ought  to  be  behind  with  your  creditor. — 
If  you  wait  on  Mr.  Strahan,  in  New-street,  Fetter-lane, 
or  in  his  absence,  on  Mr.  Andrew  Strahan,  show  this, 
by  which  they  are  entreated  to  advance  you  two  guin- 
eas, and  to  keep  this  as  a  voucher. 
"  1  am,  Sir, 

"  Your  humble  servant, 
''Ashbourne,  Aug.  12,  1784.         "  Sam.  Johnson." 

Indeed  it  is  very  necessary  to  keep  in  mind  that  Sir 
John  Hawkins  has  unaccountably  viewed  Johnson's 
character  and  conduct  in  almost  every  particular,  with 
an  unhappy  prejudice.^ 

«  Vol.!.  p.  414. 

»  1  shall  add  one  instance  only  to  those  which  I  have  thought  it  incumbent  on 
me  to  point  out.  Talking  of  Mr.  Garrick's  having  signified  his  wiUingness  to  let 
Johnson  have  the  loan  of  any  of  his  books  to  assist  him  in  his  edition  of  Shak- 
speare  ;  Sir  John  says,  (page  444,)  "  Mr.  Garrick  knew  not  what  risque  he  ran  by 
this  offer.  Johnson  had  so  strange  a  forgetfulness  of  obligations  of  this  sort,  that  few 
who  lent  him  books  ever  saw  them  again."  This  surely  conveys  a  most  unfa- 
vourable insinuation,  and  has  been  so  understood.  Sir  John  mentions  the  single 
case  of  a  curious  edition  of  PoHtian,  which  he  tells  us,  "  appeared  to  belong  to 
Pembroke  CoOege,  which,  probably,  had  been  considered  by  Johnson  as  his  own, 
for  upwards  of  fifty  years."     Would  it  not  be  fairer  to  consider  this  as  an  inad- 


452  THE    LIFE    OF 

1784.  W^e  now  behold  Johnson  for  the  last  time,  in  his 
^'^  native  city,  for  which  he  ever  retained  a  warm  affec- 
75. '  tion,  and  which,  by  a  sudden  apostrophe,  under  the 
word  Lich,  he  introduces  with  reverence,  into  his  im- 
mortal Work,  The  English  Dictionary  : — '  Saive, 
magna  parens  /"^  While  here,  he  felt  a  revival  of  all 
the  tenderness  of  filial  affection,  an  instance  of  which 
appeared  in  his  ordering  the  grave-stone  and  inscrip- 
tion over  Elizabeth  Blaney  to  be  substantially  and 
carefully  renewed. 

To  Mr.  Henry  White,  a  young  clergyman,  with 
whom  he  now  formed  an  intimacy,  so  as  to  talk  to  him 
with  great  freedom,  he  mentioned  that  he  could  not  in 
general  accuse  himself  of  having  been  an  undutiful  son. 
"  Once,  indeed,  (said  he,)  1  was  disobedient  ;  I  refused 
to  attend  my  father  to  Uttoxeter-market.  Pride  was 
the  source  of  that  refusal,  and  the  remembrance  of  it 

vertence,  and  draw  no  general  inference  ?  the  truth  Is,  that  Johnson  vras  so  atten- 
tive, that  in  one  of  his  manuscripts  in  my  possession,  he  has  marked  in  two  columns, 
books  borrowed,  and  books  lent. 

In  Sir  John  Hawkins's  compilation,  there  are,  however,  some  passages  concern- 
ing Johnson  which  have  unquestionable  merit.  One  of  them  I  shall  transcribe, 
in  justice  to  a  writer  whom  I  have  had  too  much  occasion  to  censure,  and  to  shew 
my  fairness  as  the  biographer  of  my  illustrious  friend  :  "  There  was  wanting  in 
his  conduct  and  behaviour,  that  dignity  which  results  from  a  regular  and  or- 
derly course  of  action,  and  by  an  irresistible  power  commands  esteem.  He  could 
not  be  said  to  be  a  stayed  man,  nor  so  to  have  adjusted  in  his  mind  the  balance 
of  reason  and  passion,  as  to  give  occasion  to  say  what  may  be  observed  of  some 
men,  that  all  they  do  is  just,  fit,  and  right."  Yet  a  judicious  friend  well  suggests, 
"  It  might,  however,  have  been  added,  that  such  men  are  often  merely  just,  and 
rigidly  correct,  while  their  hearts  are  cold  and  unfeeling ;  and  that  Johnson's  vir- 
tues were  of  a  much  higher  tone  than  those  of  the  stayed,  orderly  man,  here  de- 
scribed." 

"  The  following  circumstance,  mutually  to  the  honour  of  Johnson  and  the  cor- 
poration of  his  native  city,  has  been  communicated  to  me  by  the  Reverend  Dr.  Vyse, 
from  the  Town-Clerk  :  "  Mr.  Simpson  has  now  before  him,  a  record  of  the  re- 
spect and  veneration  which  the  Corporation  of  Lichfield,  in  the  year  1767,  had  for 
the  merits  and  learning  of  Dr.  Johnson.  His  father  built  the  corner  house  in  the 
Market-place,  the  two  fronts  of  which,  towards  Market  and  Broad-market-street, 
stood  upon  waste  land  of  the  Corporation,  under  a  forty  years'  lease,  which  was 
then  expired.  On  the  1 5th  of  August,  17G7,  at  a  common-hall  of  the  bailiffs  and 
citizens,  it  was  ordered  (and  that  without  any  sohcitation,)  that  a  lease  should 
be  granted  to  Samuel  Johnson,  Doctor  of  Laws,  of  the  encroachments  at  his  house, 
for  the  term  of  ninety-nine  years,  at  the  old  rent,  which  was  five  shillings.  Of 
which,  as  Town-Clerk,  Mr.  Simpson  had  the  honour  and  pleasure  of  informing 
him,  and  that  he  was  desired  to  accept  it,  without  paying  any  fine  on  the  occa- 
sion, which  lease  was  afterwards  granted,  and  the  Doctor  died  possessed  of  this 
property." 

♦  See  Vol.  I.  p.  35. 


DR.   JOHNSON. 


A53 


was  painful.     A  few  years  ago  I  desired  to  atone  for  i784. 
this  fault,  1  went  to  Uttoxeter  in  very  bad  weather,  and  ^J^ 
stood  for  a  considerable  time  bareheaded  in  the  rain,    75. 
on  the  spot  where  my  father's  stall  used  to  stand.     In 
contrition  1  stood,  and  1  hope  the  penance  was  ex- 
piatory." 

"  1  told  him  (says  Miss  Seward)  in  one  of  my  latest 
visits  to  him,  of  a  wonderful  learned  pig,  which  1  had 
seen  at  Nottingham  ;  and  which  did  all  that  we  have 
observed  exhibited  by  dogs  and  horses.  The  subject 
amused  him.  '  Then,  (said  he,)  the  pigs  are  a  race  un- 
justly calumniated.  Pig  has,  it  seems,  not  been  want- 
ing to  mem,  but  mem  to  pig.  We  do  not  allow  time  for 
his  education,  we  kill  him  at  a  year  old.^  Mr.  Henry 
White,  who  was  present,  observed  that  if  this  instance 
had  happened  in  or  before  Pope's  time,  he  would  not 
have  been  justified  in  instancing  the  swine  as  the  lowest 
degree  of  groveling  instinct.  Dr.  Johnson  seemed 
pleased  with  the  observation,  while  the  person  who 
made  it  proceeded  to  remark,  that  great  torture  must 
have  been  employed,  ere  the  indocility  of  the  animal 
could  have  been  subdued. — '  Certainly,  (said  the  Doc- 
tor ;)  but,  (turning  to  me,)  how  old  is  your  pig^'  I 
told  him,  three  years  old.  '  Then,  (said  he,)  the  pig 
has  no  cause  to  complain  ;  he  would  have  been  killed 
the  first  year  if  he  had  not  been  educated,  and  protract- 
ed existence  is  a  good  recom pence  for  very  considerable 
degrees  of  torture." 

As  Johnson  had  now  very  faint  hopes  of  recovery, 
and  as  Mrs.  Thrale  was  no  longer  devoted  to  him,  it 
might  have  been  supposed  that  he  would  naturally 
have  chosen  to  remain  in  the  comfortable  house  of  his 
beloved  wife's  daughter,  and  end  his  life  where  he 
began  it.  But  there  was  in  him  an  animated  and  lofty 
spirit, 5  and  however  complicated  diseases  might  de- 
press ordinary  mortals,  all  who  saw  him  beheld  and 


'  Mr.  Burke  suggested  to  me  as  applicable  to  Johnson,  what  Cicero  in  his  Cato 
Major,  says  of  Appius  :  "  Ititentum  enim  animum  tanquam  arcum  hahebat,  nee  languescens 
tnccumbebat  senectuti ;"  repeating,  at  the  same  time,  the  following  noble  words  in 
the  same  passage  :  "  Ita  enim  senectus  bonesta  est  li  se  ipsa  defendit,  si  jus  suum  retinet, 
lijiimini  tmancipata  est,  si  usgitt  ad  extremum  •vita  spiritum  I'indicemjus  luutn," 


451  THE    LIFE    OF 

1784.  acknowledged  the  invictum  auimum  Caionis.'  Such 
^tat^  vvas  his  intellfctual  ardour  even  at  this  time,  that  he 
75,  said  to  one  friend,  "  Sir,  1  look  upon  every  day  to  be 
lost,  in  which  1  do  not  make  a  new  acquaintance  ;"  and 
to  another,  when  talking  of  his  illness,  "  1  will  be  con- 
quered ;  1  will  not  capitulate."  And  such  was  his 
love  of  London,  so  high  a  relish  had  he  of  its  magnifi- 
cent extent,  and  variety  of  intellectual  entertainment, 
that  he  languished  when  absent  from  it,  his  mind  hav- 
ing become  Cjuite  luxurious  from  the  long  habit  of  en- 
joying the  metropolis  ;  and,  therefore,  although  at 
Lichfield,  surrounded  with  friends  who  loved  and 
revered  him,  and  for  whom  he  had  a  very  sincere  affec- 
tion, he  still  found,  that  such  conversation  as  London 
affords,  could  be  found  no  where  else.  These  feel- 
ings, joined,  probably,  to  some  flattering  hopes  of  aid 
from  the  eminent  physicians  and  surgeons  in  London, 
who  kindly  and  generously  attended  him  without  ac- 
cepting fees,  made  him  resolve  to  return  to  the  capital. 
From  Lichfield  he  came  to  Birmingham,  where  he 
passed  a  few  days  with  his  worthy  old  schoolfellow,  Mr. 
Hector,  who  thus  writes  to  me  :  "  He^was  very  solicit- 
ous with  me  to  recollect  some  of  our  most  early  trans- 
actions, and  transmit  them  to  him,  for  1  perceived  noth- 
ing gave  him  greater  pleasure  than  calling  to  mind  those 
days  of  our  innocence.  I  complied  with  his  request, 
and  he  only  received  them  a  few  days  before  his  death. 
I  have  transcribed  for  your  inspection,  exactly  the  min- 
utes I  wrote  to  him.'^  This  paper  having  been  found 
in  his  repositories  after  his  death,  Sir  John  Hawkins  has 
inserted  it  entire,  and  1  have  made  occasional  use  of  it 
and  other  communications  from  Mr.  Hector,*  in  the 

■  [Atrocem  animum  Catonis,  are  Horace's  words,  and  it  may  be  doubted  whether 
etrox  is  used  by  any  other  original  writer  in  the  same  sense.  Stubborn  is  perhaps 
the  most  correct  translation  of  this  epithet.     M.] 

^  It  is  a  most  agreeable  circumstance  attending  the  publication  of  this  Work, 
that  Mr.  Hector  has  survived  his  illustrious  school-fellow  so  many  years ;  that  he 
•till  retains  his  health  and  spirits  ;  and  has  gratified  me  with  the  following  ac- 
knowledgement :  "  I  thank  you,  most  sincerely  thank  you,  for  the  great  and  long 
continued  entertainment  your  I-ife  of  Dr.  Johnson  has  afforded  me,  and  others,  of 
my  particular  friends."  Mr.  Hector,  besides  setting  me  right  as  to  the  verse  on  a 
sprig  of  Myrtle,  (see  Vol.  I.  p.  76,  note,)  has  favoured  me  with  two  English  odes, 


DR.   JOHNSON.  453 

course  of  this  Work.     I  have   both  visited  and  corres-  •784. 
ponded  with  him  since  Dr.  Johnson's  death,  and  by  my  ^J^ 
enquiries  concerning  a  great  variety  of  particulars  have   75. 
obtained  additional  information.     1  followed  the  same 
mode  with  the  Reverend  Dr.  Taylor,  in  whose  presence 
I  wrote  down  a  good  deal  of  what  he   could  tell  ;  and 
he,  at  my  request,  signed  his  name,  to  give  it  authenti- 
city.    It  is  very  rare  to  find  any  person  who  is  able  to 
give  a  distinct  account  of  the  life  even  of  one  whom  he 
has  known  intimately,  without  questions  being  put  to 
them.     My  friend   Dr.  Kippis,  has  told  me,  that  on 
this  account  it  is  a  practice  with  him  to  draw  out  a  bi- 
ographical catechism. 

Johnson  then  proceeded  to  Oxford,  where  he  was 
again  kindly  received  by  Dr.  Adams,^  who  was  pleased 
to  give  me  the  following  account  in  one  of  his  letters, 

svritten  by  Dr.  Johnson,  at  an  early  period  of  his  life,  which  will  appear  in  my 
edition  of  his  Poems. 

[This  early  and  worthy  friend  of  Johnson  died  at  Birmingham,  September  2, 
1794.     M.] 

3  [This  amiable  and  excellent  man  survived  Dr.  Johnson  about  four  years,  hav- 
ing died  in  January  1 789,  at  Gloucester,  where  a  Monument  is  erected  to  his 
Memory,  with  the  following  Inscription  : — 

Sacred  to  the  Memory  of 

William  Adams,  D.  D. 

Master  of  Pembroke  College,  Oxford, 

Prebendary  of  this  Cathedral,  and 

Archdeacon  of  LandafF. 

Ingenious,  Learned,  Eloquent, 
He  ably  defended  the  Truth  of  Christianity  ; 

Pious,  Benevolent,  and  Charitable, 

He  successfully  inculcated  its  sacred  Precepts. 

Pure,  and  undeviating  in  his  own  Conduct, 

He  was  tender  and  compassionate  to  the  Failings  of  others. 

Ever  anxious  for  the  welfare  and  happiness  of  Mankind, 

He  was  on  all  occasions  forward  to  encourage 

Works  of  publick  UtiHty,  and  extensive  Beneficence. 

In  the  Government  of  the  College  over  which  he  presided, 

His  vigilant  Attention  was  uniformly  exerted 

To  promote  the  important  Objects  of  the  institution  ; 

Whilst  the  mild  Dignity  of  his  Deportment, 

His  gentleness  of  Disposition,  and  urbanity  of  Manners, 

Inspired  Esteem,  Gratitude,  and  Affection. 

Full  of  Days,  and  matured  in  Virtue, 
He  died  Jan.  13th,  1789,  aged  82. 

A  very  just  character  of  Dr.  Adams  may  also  be  found  in  "  The  Gentleman's 
Magazine,"  for  1789,  Vol.  LIX.  p.  214.  His  only  daughter  (see  p.  315,)  was 
married,  in  July  1788,  to  B.  Hyatt  of  Pains^vick  in  Gloucestershire,  Esq.     M.] 


4j6  the  life  of 

1784.  (Feb.  17th,  1785:)  "  His  last  visit  was,  I  believe,  to 
2J^  my  house,  which  he  left,  after  a  stay  of  four  or  five 
75.  days.  We  had  much  serious  talk  together,  for  which  I 
ought  to  be  the  better  as  long  as  i  live.  You  will  re- 
member some  discourse  which  we  had  in  the  summer 
upon  the  subject  of  prayer,  and  the  difficulty  of  this 
sort  of  composition.  He  reminded  me  of  this,  and  of 
my  having  wished  him  to  try  his  hand,  and  to  give  us 
a  specimen  of  the  style  and  manner  that  he  approved. 
He  added,  that  he  was  now  in  a  right  frame  of  mind, 
and  as  he  could  not  possibly  employ  his  time  better,  he 
would  in  earnest  set  about  it.  But  1  find  upon  en- 
quiry, that  no  papers  of  this  sort  were  left  behind  him, 
except  a  few  short  ejaculatory  forms  suitable  to  his 
present  situation." 

Dr.  Adams  had  not  then  received  accurate  informa- 
tion on  this  subject  ;  for  it  has  since  appeared  that 
various  prayers  had  been  composed  by  him  at  diflfer- 
cnt  periods,  vfhich  intermingled  with  pious  resolutions, 
and  some  short  notes  of  his  life,  were  entitled  by  him 
"  Prayers  and  Meditations,"  and  have,  in  pursuance 
of  his  earnest  requisition,  in  the  hopes  of  doing  good, 
been  published,  with  a  judicious  well  written  Preface, 
by  the  Reverend  Mr.  Strahan,  to  whom  he  delivered 
them.  This  admirable  collection,  to  which  I  have 
frequently  referred  in  the  course  of  this  Work,  evinces, 
beyond  all  his  compositions  for  the  publick,  and  all  the 
eulogies  of  his  friends  and  admirers,  the  sincere  virtue 
and  piety  of  Johnson,  it  proves  with  unquestionable 
authenticity,  that  amidst  all  his  constitutional  infirmities, 
his  earnestness  to  conform  his  practice  to  the  precepts 
of  Christianity  was  unceasing,  and  that  he  habitually 
endeavoured  to  refer  every  transaction  of  his  life  to  the 
will  of  the  Supreme  Being. 

He  arrived  in  London  on  the  l6th  of  November, 
and  next  day  sent  to  Dr.  Burney  the  following  note, 
which  1  insert  as  the  last  token  of  his  remembrance 
of  that  ingenious  and  amiable  man,  and  as  another  of 
the  many  proofs  of  the  tenderness  and  benignity  of 
his  heart  : 


DR.   JOHNSON.  45/ 

*'  Mr.  Johnson,  who  came  home  last  nighty  sends  '784. 
his  respects  to  dear  Dr.  Burney,  and  all  the  dear  Bur-  ^^.^ 
neys,  little  and  great."  75. 

"  TO  MR.    HECTOR,    IN  BIRMINGHAlVl. 
^'  DEAR  SIR, 

"  1  DID  not  reach  Oxford  until  Friday  morning, 
and  then  I  sent  Francis  to  see  the  balloon  fly,  but 
could  not  go  myself.  I  staid  at  Oxford  till  Tuesday, 
and  then  came  in  the  common  vehicle  easily  to  Lon-^ 
dun.  I  am  as  I  was,  and  having  seen  Dr.  Brocklesby, 
am  to  ply  the  squills  ;  but,  whatever  be  their  efficacy, 
this  world  must  soon  pass  away.  Let  us  think  serious- 
ly on  our  duty. — I  send  my  kindest  respects  to  dear 
Mrs.  Careless:  let  me  have  the  prayers  of  both.  We 
have  all  lived  long,  and  must  soon  part.  God  have 
mercy  on  us,  for  the  sake  of  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ. 
Amen.  "  I  am,  &c. 

*'  London,  Nov.  17,  1784.  "  Sam.  Johnson.^* 

His  correspondence  with  me,  after  his  letter  on  the 
subject  of  ray  settling  in  London,  shall  now,  so  far  as 
is  proper,  be  produced  in  one  series. 

July  26,  he  wrote  to  me  from  Ashbourne  :  "  On 
the  1 4th  I  came  to  Lichfield,  and  found  every  body 
glad  enough  to  see  me.  On  the  20th,  I  came  hither* 
and  found  a  house  half-built,  of  very  uncomfortable 
appearance  ;  but  my  own  room  has  not  been  altered. 
That  a  man  worn  with  diseases,  in  his  seventy-second 
or  third  year,  should  condemn  part  of  his  remaining 
life  to  pass  among  ruins  and  rubbish,  and  that  no  in- 
considerable part,  appears  to  me  very  strange. — I  know 
that  your  kindness  makes  you,  impatient  to  know  the 
state  of  my  health,  in  which  1  cannot  boast  of  much 
improvement.  I  came  through  the  journey  without 
much  inconvenience,  but  when  1  attempt  self-qiotion 
1  find  my  legs  weak,  and  my  breath  very  short  ;  this 
day  I  have  been  much  disordered.  I  have  no  com- 
pany ;  the  Doctor*  is  busy  in  his  fields,  and  goes  to 

•♦  The  Rev.  Dr.  Taylor. 
VOL.  Ill,  /)8 


4JS  THE    LIFE    OF 

1784  bed  at  nine,  and  his  whole  system  is  so  different  from 

^^^  mine,  that  we  seem  formed  for  different  elements ;  I  have, 

75.    therefore,  all  my  amusement  to  seek  within  myself." 

Having  written  to  him  in  bad  spirits,  a  letter  filled 
with  dejection  and  fretfulness,  and  at  the  same  time 
expressing  anxious  apprehensions  concerning  him,  on 
account  of  a  dream  which  had  disturbed  me  ;  his  an- 
swer Avas  chiefly  in  terms  of  reproach,  for  a  supposed 
charge  of  "  affecting  discontent,  and  indulging  the 
vanity  of  complaint."  It,  however,  proceeded,  "  Write 
to  me  often,  and  write  like  a  man.  I  consider  your 
fidelity  and  tenderness  as  a  great  part  of  the  comforts 
which  are  yet  left  me,  and  sincerely  wish  we  could  be 
nearer  to  each  other. — *  ******  *. — My  dear 
friend,  life  is  very  short  and  very  uncertain  ;  let  us 
spend  it  as  well  as  we  can.  My  worthy  neighbour, 
Allen,  is  dead.  Love  me  as  well  as  you  can.  Pay 
my  respects  to  dear  Mrs.  Boswell. — Nothing  ailed  me 
at  that  time  ;  let  your  superstition  at  last  have  an  end." 

Feeling  very  soon,  that  the  manner  in  which  he  had 
written  might  hurt  me,  he  two  days  afterwards,  July 
28,  wrote  to  me  again,  giving  me  an  account  of  his 
sufferings  ;  after  which,  he  thus  proceeds  :  "  Before 
this  letter,  you  will  have  had  one  which  I  hope  you 
will  not  take  amiss  ;  for  it  contains  only  truth,  and  that 
truth  kindly  intended.  *******  Spartam  quam 
nactus  es  orna  ;  make  the  most  and  best  of  your  lot, 
and  compare  yourself  not  with  the  few  that  are  above 
you,  but  with  the  multitudes  which  are  below  you. 
******.  Go  steadily  forwards  with  lawful  busi- 
ness or  honest  diversions.  '  Be^  (as  Temple  says  of 
the  Dutchman,)  well  when  you  are  not  ill,  and  pleased 
when  you  are  not  angry ' — *  *****.  This  may 
seem  but  an  ill  return  for  your  tenderness  ;  but  1  mean 
it  well,  for  I  love  you  with  great  ardour  and  sincerity. 
Pay  my  respects  to  dear  Mrs.  Boswell,  and  teach  the 
young  ones  to  love  me." 

1  unfortunately  was  so  much  indisposed  during  a 
considerable  part  of  the  year,  that  it  was  not,  or  at  least 
I  thought  it  was  not,  in  my  power  to  write  to  my 
illustrious  friend  as  formerly,   or  without  expressing 


DR.   JOHNSON.  459 

such  complaints  as  offended   him.     Having  conjured  J784. 
him  not  to  do   me  the  injustice  of  charging  me  with  ^^ 
affectation,  1   was  with  much  regret  long  silent.     His    75. 
last  letter  to  me  then  came,  and  affected  me  very  ten- 
derly : 

"  TO  JAMES  BOSWELL,    ESQ. 
"  DEAR  SIR, 

"  I  HAVE  this  summer  sometimes  amended,  and 
sometimes  relapsed,  but,  upon  the  whole,  have  lost 
ground  very  much.  My  legs  are  extremely  weak,  and 
my  breath  very  short,  and  the  water  is  now  encreasing 
upon  me.  In  this  uncomfortable  state  your  letters 
used  to  relieve  ;  what  is  the  reason  that  1  have  them 
no  longer  ?  Are  you  sick,  or  are  you  sullen  ?  What- 
ever be  the  reason,  if  it  be  less  than  necessity,  drive  it 
away  ;  and  of  the  short  life  that  we  have,  make  the 
best  use  for  yourself  and  for  your  friends.  ******. 
I  am  sometimes  afraid  that  your  omission  to  write  has 
some  real  cause,  and  shall  be  glad  to  know  that  you 
are  not  sick,  and  that  nothing  ill  has  befallen  dear  Mrs. 
Boswell,  or  any  of  your  family. 

"  I  am.  Sir,  your,  &c. 
"  Lichjield^  Nov.  5,  1784.  "  Sam.  Johnson." 

Yet  it  was  not  a  little  painful  to  me  to  find,  that  in 
a  paragraph  of  this  letter,  which  I  have  omitted,  he 
still  persevered  in  arraigning  me  as  before,  which  was 
strange  in  him  who  had  so  much  experience  of  what  I 
suffered.  I,  however,  wrote  to  him  two  as  kind  letters 
as  I  could  ;  the  last  of  which  came  too  late  to  be  read 
by  him,  for  his  illness  encreased  more  rapidly  upon 
him  than  I  had  apprehended  ;  but  I  had  the  consola- 
tion of  being  informed  that  he  spoke  of  me  on  his 
death-bed,  with  affection,  and  1  look  forward  with 
humble  hope  of  renewing  our  friendship  in  a  better 
world. 

I  now  relieve  the  readers  of  this  Work  from  any 
farther  personal  notice  of  its  authour  ;  who,  if  he 
should  be  thought  to  have  obtruded  himself  too  much 


46U  THE    LIFE    OF 

1784.  upon  their  attention,  request  them  to  consider  the  pe- 
2t'^t;uliar  plan  of  his  biographical  undertaking-. 
75.       Soon  after  Johnson's  return  to  the  metropolis,   both 
the  asthma  and   dropsy   became  more   vif)lent  and  dis- 
tressful.    He  had  for  some  time  kept  a  journal  in  J^atin 
of  the  state  of  his  illness,  and   the  remedies  which   he 
used,  under  the  title  of  ^o-W  Ephemeris^  which  he  be- 
gan on  the  6th  of  July,  but  continued  it  no  longer  than 
the  8th  of  November;  finding,  I  suppose,  that  it  was  a 
mournful  and   unavailing  register.     It  is  in   my  posses- 
sion ;  and  is  written  with  great  care  and  accuracy. 
Still  his  love  of  literature^  did  not  fail.     A  very  few 

*  It  is  truly  wonderful  to  consider  the  extent  and  constancy  of  Johnson's  literary 
ardour,  notwithstanding  the  melancholy  which  clouded  and  embittered  his  exist- 
ence. Besides  the  numerous  and  various  works  which  he  executed,  he  had.  at  dif- 
ferent times,  formed  schemes  of  a  great  many  more,  of  which  the  following  cata- 
logue was  given  by  him  to  Mr.  Langton,  and  by  that  gentleman  presented  to  his 
Majesty. 

"  Divinity. 

"  A  small  book  of  precepts  and  directions  for  piety  :  the  hint  taken  from  the 
directions  in  Morton's  exercise. 

"  Philosophv,  History,  and  Literature  in  general. 

"  History  of  Criticism,  as  it  relates  to  judging  of  authours,  from  Aristotle  to  the 
present  age.  An  account  of  the  rise  and  improvements  of  that  art ;  of  the  differ- 
ent opinions  of  authours,  ancient  and  modern. 

"  Translation  of  the  History  of  Hcrodian. 

"  New  edition  of  Fairfax's  Translation  of  Tasso,  with  notes,  glossary,  &c. 

"  Chaucer,  a  new  edition  of  him,  from  manuscripts  and  old  editions,  with  va- 
rious readings,  conjectures,  remarks  on  his  language,  and  the  changes  it  had  un- 
dergone from  the  earliest  times  to  his  age,  and  from  his  to  the  present ;  with  notes 
explanatory  of  customs,  &c.  and  references  to  Boccace,  and  other  authours  from 
whom  he  has  borrowed,  with  an  account  of  the  liberties  he  has  taken  in  telling 
the  stories  ;  his  life,  and  an  exact  etymological  glossary. 

"  Aristotle's  Rhetorick,  a  translation  of  it  into  English. 

"  A  collection  of  Letters,  translated  from  the  modern  writers,  with  some  account 
of  the  several  authours. 

"  Oldham's  Poems,  with  notes,  historical  and  critical. 

"  Roscommon's  Poems,  with  notes. 

"  Lives  of  the  Philosophers,  written  with  a  polite  air,  in  such  a  manner  as  may 
divert  as  well  as  instruct. 

"  History  of  the  Heathen  Mvthology,  with  an  explication  of  the  fables,  botli 
allegorical  and  historical ;  v/ith  references  to  the  poets. 

"  History  of  the  State  of  Venice,  in  a  compendious  manner. 

"  Aristotle's  Ethicks,  an  English  translation  of  them,  with  notes. 

"  Geographical  Dictionary,  from  the  French. 

"  Hierocles  upon  Pythagoras,  translated  into  English,  perhaps  with  notes.  This 
is  done  by  Norris. 

"  A  book  ot  Letters,  upon  all  kind  of  subjects. 

"  Claudian,  a  new  edition  of  his  works,  cum  notis  variorum,  in  the  manner  of 
Burman. 

"  TuUy's  Tusculan  questions,  a  translation  of  them. 

"  TuUy's  De  Natura  Deorum,  a  translation  of  those  books. 

•'  Be&zo's  New  History  of  the  Ntw  World,  to  be  translated 


DR.   JOHNSON.  461 

days  before  his  death  he  transmitted  to  his  friend  Mr.  1784. 
John  Nichols,  a  hst  of  the  authours  of  the  Universal  2t^ 

75. 

"  Machiavel's  History  of  Florence,  to  be  translated. 

"  History  of  the  Revival  of  Learning-  in  Europe,  containing  an  account  of 
whatever  contributed  to  the  restoration  of  literature  ;  such  as  controversies,  print- 
ing, the  destruction  of  the  Greek  empire,  the  encouragement  of  great  men,  with 
the  lives  of  the  most  eminent  patrons,  and  most  eminen.t  early  professors  of  all 
kinds  of  learning  in  different  countries. 

"  A  Body  of  Chronology,  in  verse,  with  historical  notes. 

"  A  table  of  the  Spectators,  Tatlers,  and  Guardians,  distinguished  by  figures 
into  six  degrees  of  vsJue,  with  notes,  giving  the  reasons  of  preference  or  degrad- 
ation. 

"  A  Collection  of  Letters  from  English  authours,  with  a  preface  giving  some  ac- 
count of  the  writers ;  with  reasons  for  selection,  and  criticism  upon  styles  ;  remarks 
on  each  letter,  if  needful. 

"  A  Collection  of  Proverbs  from  various  languages.     Jan.  6, — 53. 

"  A  Dictionary  to  the  Common  Prayer,  in  imitation  of  Calmet's  Dictionary  of 
tlie  Bible.     March, — 52. 

"  A  collection  of  Stories  and  Examples,  like  those  of  Valerius  Maximus.  Jaa. 
10,-53. 

"  From  .^lian,  a  volume  of  select  Stories,  perhaps  from  others.     Jan.  28, — 53. 

"  Collection  of  Travels,  Voyages,  Adventures,  and  Descriptions  of  Countries. 

"  Dictionary  of  Ancient  History  and  Mythology. 

"  Treatise  on  the  Study  of  Polite  Literature,  containing  the  history  of  learning, 
directions  for  editions,  commentaries,  &c. 

"  Maxims,  Characters,  and  Sentiments,  after  the  manner  of  Bruyere,  collected 
out  of  ancient  authours,  particularly  the  Greek  with  Apophthegms. 

"  Classical  Miscellanies,  Select  Translations  from  ancient  Greek  and  Latin  au- 
thours. 

•'  Lives  of  Illustrious  Persons,  as  well  of  the  active  as  the  learned,  in  imitation  of 
Plurarch. 

"  Judgement  of  the  learned  upon  English  authours. 

"  Poetical  Dictionary  of  the  English  tongue. 

"  Considerations  upon  the  present  state  of  London. 

"  Collection  of  Epigrams,  with  notes  and  observations. 

"  Observations  on  the  English  language,  relating  to  words,  phrases,  and  modes 
of  Speech. 

"  Minutix  Literarise,  Miscellaneous  reflections,  criticisms,  emendations,  notes. 

"  History  of  the  Constitution. 

"  Comparison  of  Philosophical  and  Christian  Morality,  by  sentences  collected 
from  the  moralists  and  fathers. 

"  Plutarch's  Lives,  in  English,  with  notes. 

Poetry  and  works  of  Imagination. 

"  Hymn  to  Ignorance. 

"  The  Palace  of  Sloth,  —a  vision. 

"  Coluthus,  to  be  translated. 

"  Prejudice, — a  poetical  essay. 

"  The  Palace  of  Nonsense, — a  vision." 

Johnson's  extraordinary  facility  of  composition,  when  he  shook  ofF  his  consti- 
tutional indolence,  and  resolutely  sat  down  to  write,  is  admirably  described  by 
Mr.  Courtenay,  in  his  "  Poetical  Review,"  which  I  have  several  times  quoted  : 

"  While  through  life's  maze  he  sent  a  piercing  view, 

"  His  mind  expansive  to  the  object  grew. 

"  With  various  stores  of  erudition  fraught, 

"  The  lively  image,  the  deep-searching  thought, 

"Slept  in  repose  ; — but  when  the  mom^ent  press'd, 


462  THE    LIFE    OF 

1784.  History,  mentioning  their  several  shares  in  that  work. 
5^^  it  has,  according  to  his  direction,  been  deposited  in  the 

75. 

"  The  bright  ideas  stood  at  once  confess'd ; 
"  Instant  his  genius  sped  its  vigorous  rays, 
"  And  o'er  tlie  letter 'd  world  difTiis'd  a  blaze  : 
"  As  womb'd  with  fire  the  cloud  electrick  flies, 
"  And  calmly  o'er  th'  horizon  seems  to  rise  : 
"Touch'd  by  the  pointed  steel,  the  lightning  flows, 
"  And  all  th"  expanse  with  rich  effulgence  glows." 

We  shall  in  vain  endeavour  to  know  virith  exact  precision  every  production  »f 
Johnson's  pen.  He  owned  to  me,  that  he  had  written  about  forty  sermons  ;  but 
as  I  understood  that  he  had  given  or  sold  them  to  different  persons,  who  were  to 
preach  them  as  their  own,  he  did  not  consider  himself  at  liberty  to  acknowledge 
them.  Would  those  who  were  thus  aided  by  him,  who  are  still  alive,  and  the 
friends  of  those  who  are  dead,  fairly  inform  the  world,  it  would  be  obligingly 
gratifying  a  reasonable  curiosity,  to  which  there  should,  I  think,  now  be  no  objec- 
tion. Two  volumes  of  them,  pubhshed  since  his  death,  are  sufficiently  ascer- 
tained ;  see  Vol.  II.  p.  430. — I  have  before  me,  in  his  hand-writing,  a  fragment  of 
twenty  quarto  leaves,  of  a  translation  into  English  of  Sallust,  De  Bella  Catilinario. 
When  it  was  done  I  have  no  notion  ;  but  it  seems  to  have  no  very  superiour 
merit  to  mark  it  as  his.  Besides  the  pubHcatiohs  heretofore  mentioned,  I  am  sat- 
isfied, from  internal  evidence,  to  admit  also  as  genuine  the  following,  which,  not- 
wthstanding  all  my  chronological  care,  escaped  me  in  the  course   of  this  work  : 

"Considerations  on  the  Case  of  Dr.  Trapp's  Sermons,"f  published  in  1739,  in 
the  Gentleman's  Magazine.  It  is  a  very  ingenious  defence  of  the  right  of  abridging 
an  authour's  work,  without  being  held  as  infringing  his  property.  This  is  one  of 
the  nicest  questions  in  the  Zi^if  o/ZzVcra/are;  and  I  cannot  help  thinking,  that 
the  indulgence  of  abridging  is  oftpn  exceedingly  injurious  to  authours  and  book- 
sellers, and  should  in  very  few  cases  be  permitted.  At  any  rate,  to  prevent  diffi- 
cult and  uncertain  discussion,  and  give  an  absolute  security  to  authours  in  the 
property  of  their  labours,  no  abridgement  whatever  should  be  permitted,  till  after 
the  expiration  of  such  a  number  of  years  as  the  Legislature  may  be  pleased  to  fix. 

But,  though  it  has  been  confidently  ascribed  to  him,  I  cannot  allow  that  he 
wrote  a  Dedication  to  both  Houses  of  Parliament  of  a  book  entitled  "  The  Evan- 
gelical History  Harmonized."  He  was  no  croaker  ;  no  declaimer  against  the  times. 
He  would  not  have  written, "  That  we  are  fallen  upon  an  age  in  which  corrup- 
tion is  not  barely  universal,  is  universally  confessed."  Nor,  "  Rapine  preys  on 
the  publick  without  opposition,  and  perjury  betrays  it  without  inquiry."  Nor 
would  he,  to  excite  a  speedy  reformation,  have  conjured  up  such  phantoms  of 
terrour  as  these  :  "  A  few  years  longer,  and  perhaps  all  endeavours  will  be  in  vain. 
We  may  be  swallowed  by  an  earthquake  :  we  may  be  delivered  to  our  enemies." 
This  is  not  Johnsonian. 

There  are,  indeed,  in  this  Dedication  several  sentences  constructed  upon  the 
model  of  those  of  Johnson.  But  the  imitation  of  the  form,  without  the  spirit  of 
his  style,  has  been  so  general,  that  this  of  itself  is  not  sufficient  evidence.  Even 
our  newspaper  writers  aspire  to  it.  In  an  account  of  the  funeral  of  Edwin,  the 
comedian,  in  "  The  Diary"  of  Nov.  9,  1790,  that  son  of  drollery  is  thus  described  : 
'■'■  A  man  who  had  so  often  cheered  the  sullenness  of  vacancy,  and  suspended  the 
approaches  of  sorrow."  And  in  "  The  Dublin  Evening  Post,"  August  16,  1791, 
there  is  the  following  paragraph  :  "  It  is  a  singular  circumstance,  that  in  a  city 
like  this,  containing  200,000  people,  there  are  three  months  in  the  year  during 
which  no  place  of  publick  amusement  is  open.  Long  vacation  is  here  a  vacation 
from  pleasure,  as  well  as  business  ;  nor  is  there  any  mode  of  passing  the  listless 
evenings  of  declining  summer,  but  in  the  riots  of  a  tavern,  or  the  stupidity  of  a 
coffee-house." 

I  have  not  thought  it  necessary  to  specify  every  copy  of  verses  written  by 
Johnson,  it  being  my  intention  to  publish  an  authentick  edition  of  all  his  Poetry. 
with  notes. 


DR.   JOHNSON.  463 

British  Museum,  and  is  printed  in  the  Gentleman's  i784. 
Magazine  for  December,  1784.^  ^tau 

During  his  sleepless  nights  he  amused  himself  by  75. 
translating  into  Latin  verse,  from  the  Greek,  many  of 
the  epigrams  in  the  Anthologia.  These  translations, 
with  some  other  poems  by  him  in  Latin,  he  gave  to  his 
friend  Mr.  Langton,  who,  having  added  a  few  notes, 
sold  them  to  the  booksellers  for  a  small  sum  to  be  given, 
to  some  of  Johnson's  relations,  which  was  accordingly 
done  ;  and  they  are  printed  in  the  collection  of  his 
works. 


'  [As  the  letter  accompanying  this  list,  (which  fully  supports  the  observation  in 
the  text,)  was  written  but  a  week  before  Dr.  Johnson's  death,  the  reader  may  not 
be  displeased  to  find  it  here  preserved  : 

"  TO  MR.  NICHOLS. 

"  The  late  learned  Mr.  Swinton,  having  one  day  remarked  that  one  man,  mean- 
ing, I  suppose,  no  man  but  himself,  could  assign  all  the  parts  of  the  Ancient  Uni- 
versal History  to  their  proper  authours,  at  the  request  of  Sir  Robert  Chambers,  or 
of  myself,  gave  the  account  which  I  now  transmit  to  you  in  his  own  hand  ;  being 
willing  that  of  so  great  a  work  the  history  should  be  known,  and  that  each  writer 
should  receive  his  due  proportion  of  praise  from  posterity. 

"  I  recommend  to  you  to  preserve  this  scrap  of  literary  intelligence  in  Mr. 
Swinton's  own  hand,  or  to  desposite  it  in  the  Museum,  that  the  veracity  of  this 
account  may  never  be  doubted. 

"  I  am,  Sir, 

"  Your  most  humble  servant, 

«  Dec.  6,  1784.  "  Sam.  Johnson." 

Mr.  S n. 

The  History  of  the  Carthaginians. 

Numidians. 

^— — — ^^—  Mauritanians. 

Gsetulians. 

Garamanthcs. 

Melano  Gstulians. 

Nigrits. 

Cyrenaica. 

Marmarica. 

Regio  Syrtica. 

Turks,  Tartars,  and  Moguls. 

Indians. 

•  Chinese. 

Dissertation  on  the  peopling  of  America. 

—  on  the  independency  of  the  Arabs. — 

The  Cosmogony,  and  a  small  part  of  the  Historv  immediately  following ;  by 
Mr.  Sale. 

To  the  birth  of  Abraham ;  chiefly  by  Mr.  Shelvock. 

History  of  the  Jews,  Gauls,  and  Spaniards ;  by  Mr.  Psalmanazar. 

Xenophon's  Retreat ;  by  the  same. 

History  of  the  Persians  and  the  Constantinopolitan  Empire ;  by  Dr.  Campbell. 

History  of  the  Romans ;  by  Mr.  Bower.] 


464  THE    LIFE    OF 

J 784.  A  very  erroneous  notion  has  circulated  as  to  John-^ 
2j^  son's  deficiency  in  the  knowledge  of  the  Greek  lan- 
75.  gnage,  partly  owing  to  the  modesty  with  which,  fr(»m 
knowins:  how  much  there  was  to  be  learnt,  he  used 
to  mention  his  own  comparative  acquisitions.  When 
Mr.  Cumberland^  talked  to  him  of  the  Greek  fragments 
which  are  so  well  illustrated  in  "  The  Observer,"  and 
of  the  Greek  dramatists  in  general,  he  candidly  ac- 
knowledged his  insufficiency  in  that  particular  branch 
of  Greek  literature.  Yet  it  may  be  said,  that  though 
not  a  great,  he  was  a  good  Greek  scholar.  Dr.  Charles 
Burney,  the  younger,  who  is  universally  acknowledged 
by  the  best  judges,  to  be  one  of  the  few  men  of  this 
age  who  are  very  eminent  for  their  skill  in  that  noble 
language,  has  assured  me,  that  Johnson  could  give  a 
Greek  word  for  almost  every  English  one  ;  and  that  al- 
though not  sufficiently  conversant  in  the  niceties  of  the 
language,  he,  upon  some  occasions  discovered,  even  in 
these,  a  considerable  degree  of  critical  acumen.  Mr. 
Dalzel,  Professor  of  Greek  at  Edinburgh,  whose  skill  in 
it  is  unquesti')nable,  mentioned  to  me,  in  very  liberal 
terms,  the  impression  which  was  made  upon  him  by 
Johnson,  in  a  conversation  which  they  had  in  London 
concerning  that  language.  As  Johnson,  therefore, 
was  undoubtedly  one  of  the  first  Latin  scholars  in  mod- 
ern times,  let  us  not  deny  to  his  fame  some  additional 
splendour  from  Greek. 

1  shall  now  fulfil  my  promise  of  exhibiting  specimens 
of  various  sorts  of  imitation  of  Johnson's  style. 

In  the  "  Transactions  of  the  Royal  Irish  Academy, 
1787,"  there  is  an  "  Essay  on  the  Style  of  Dr.  Samuel 
Johnson,"  by  the  Reverend  Robert  Burrowes,  whose 
respect  for  the  great  object  of  his  criticism^  is  thus  evinc- 

■  Mr.  Cumberland  assures  me,  that  he  was  always  treated  with  great  courtesy 
by  Dr.  Johnson,  who,  in  his  '  Letters  to  Mrs.  Thrale,"  Vol.  11.  p.  68,  thus  speaks 
of  that  learned,  ingenious,  and  accomplished  gentleman  :  "  The  want  of  company 
is  an  inconvenience,  but  Mr.  Cumberland  is  a  million." 

"  We  must  smile  at  a  little  inaccuracy  or  metaphor  in  the  Preface  to  the  Trans- 
actions, which  is  written  by  Mr.  Burrowes.  The  critici  of  the  style  of  Johnson 
having,  with  a  just  zeal  for  literature,  observed,  that  the  whole  nation  are  called 
on  to  exert  themselves,  afterwards  says  ;  "  They  are  called  on  by  every  tye  which 
can  have  a  laudable  influence  on  the  heart  of  man." 


DR.   JOHNSON.  46^3 

ed  in  the  concluding  paragraph  :    I  have   singled  him  1784. 
out  from  the  whole  body  of  English  writers,  because  his  ^^ 
universally-acknowledged  beauties   would  be  most  apt   75.  ' 
to  induce  imitation  ;  and   I  have   treated  rather  on  his 
faults,  than  his  perfections,  because  an  essay  might  com- 
prize all  the  observations  1  could  make  upon  his  faults, 
while  volumes  would  not  be  sufficient  for  a  treatise  on 
his  perfections." 

Mr.  Burrowes  has  analysed  the  composition  of 
Johnson,  and  pointed  out  its  peculiarities  with  much 
acuteness  ;  and  1  would  recommend  a  careful  perusal 
of  his  Essay  to  those,  who  being  captivated  by  the 
union  of  perspicuity  and  splendour  which  the  writings 
of  Johnson  contain,  without  having  a  sufficient  portion 
of  his  vigour  of  mind,  may  be  in  danger  of  becoming 
bad  copyists  of  his  manner.  I,  however,  cannot  but 
observe,  and  I  observe  it  to  his  credit,  that  this  learned 
gentleman  has  himself  caught  no  mean  degree  of  the 
expansion  and  harmony,  which,  independent  of  all  other 
circumstances,  characterise  the  sentences  of  Johnson. 
Thus,  in  the  Preface  to  the  volume  in  which  the  Essay 
appears,  we  find,  "  If  it  be  said  that  in  societies  of  this 
sort,  too  much  attention  is  frequently  bestowed  on  sub- 
jects barren  and  speculative,  it  may  be  answered,  that 
no  one  science  is  so  little  connected  with  the  rest,  as 
not  to  afford  many  principles  whose  use  may  extend 
considerably  beyond  the  science  to  which  they  pri- 
marily belong  ;  and  that  no  proposition  is  so  purely 
theoretical  as  to  be  totally  incapable  of  being  applied 
to  practical  purposes.  There  is  no  apparent  connection 
between  duration  and  the  cycloidal  arch,  the  proper- 
ties of  which  duly  attended  to,  have  furnished  us  with 
our  best  regulated  methods  of  measuring  time  :  and  he 
who  has  made  himself  master  of  the  nature  and  affec- 
tions of  the  logarithmick  curve,  is  not  aware  that  he  has 
advanced  considerably  towards  ascertaining  the  propor- 
tionable density  of  the  air  at  its  various  distances  from 
the  surface  of  the  earth." 

The  ludicrous  imitators  of  Johnson's  style  are  innu- 
merable. Their  general  method  is  to  accumulate  hard, 
words,  without  considering,  that,  although  he  was  fond 

VOL.  III.  59 


466  THE    LIFE    OF 

17B4.  of  introducing  them  occasionally,  there  is  not  a  single      ^i 

^^  sentence  in  all  his  writings  where  they  are  crowded      ■ 

75.'  together,  as  in  the  first  verse  of  the  following  imaginary      fl 

Ode  by  him  to  Mrs.  Thrale,"  which   appeared  in  the 

newspapers  : 

"  Cervisial  coctor^s  vidtiate  dame, 
"  Opins^t  thou  his  gigantick  fame, 

"  Procumbing  at  that  shrine  ; 
"  Shall,  catenated  by  thy  charms, 
"  A  captive  in  thy  ambient  arms, 

"  Perennially  be  thine  ?" 

This,  and  a  thousand  other  such  attempts,  are  totally 
unlike  the  original,  which  the  writers  imagined  they 
were  turning  into  ridicule.  There  is  not  similarity 
enough  for  burlesque,  or  even  for  caricature. 

Mr.  CoLMAN,  in  his  "  Prose  on  several  occasions," 
has  "  A  Letter  from  Lexiphanes  ;  containing  Pro- 
posals for  a  Glossary  or  Vocabularif  of  the  Vulgar 
Tongue :  intended  as  a  Supplement  to  a  large  Dic- 
tionary." It  is  evidently  meant  as  a  sportive  sally 
of  ridicule  on  Johnson,  whose  style  is  thus  imitated, 
without  beings  grossly  overcharged.  "It  is  easy  to 
foresee,  that  the  idle  and  illiterate  will  complain  that  I 
have  increased  their  labours  by  endeavouring  to  dimin- 
ish them  ;  and  that  I  have  explained  what  is  more  easy 

"■  Johnson's  wishing  to  unite  himself  with  this  rich  widow,  was  much  talked  of, 
but  I  believe  without  foundation.  The  report,  however,  gave  occasion  to  a  poem, 
not  without  characteristical  merit,  entitled,  "  Ode  to  Mrs.  Thrale,  by  Samuel  John- 
son, LL.  D.  on  their  supposed  approaching  Nuptials ;"  printed  for  Mr.  Faulder,  in 
Bond-street. — I  shall  quote  as  a  specimen,  the  first  three  stanzas  ; 

."  If  e'er  my  fingers  touch'd  the  lyre, 

"  In  satire  fierce,  in  pleasure  gay  ; 
"  Shall  not  my  Thralia's  smiles  inspire  ? 

"  Shall  Sam  refuse  the  sportive  lay  .' 

"  My  dearest  Lady  !  view  your  slave, 

"  Behold  him  as  your  very  Scrub  ; 
"  Eager  to  write  as  authour  grave, 

"  Or  govern  well,  the  brewing-tub. 

"  To  rich  felicity  thus  raised, 

"  My  bosom  glows  with  amorous  fire  ; 
"  Porter  no  longer  shall  be  praised, 
^  "  'Tis  I  MYSELF  am  Thrale s  £ntire." 


DR.   JOHNSON.  467 

by  what   is   more   difficult — ignotmn  per  ignotius.     I  ^784. 
expect,  on   the  other  hand,  the  liberal  acknowledge-  ^^^ 
ments  of  the  learned.     He  who  is  buried  in  scholas-   75. 
tick  retirement,  secluded   from   the  assemblies  of  the 
gay,  and  remote  from  the  circles  of  the  polite,   will  at 
once  comprehend  the  definitions,  and  be  grateful  for 
such   a  seasonable  and   necessary'  elucidation   of  his 
mother-tongue."     Annexed    to  this  letter  is  a  short 
specimen  of  the  work,  thrown  together  in  a  vague  and 
desultory  manner,  not  even  adhering  to  alphabetical 
concatenation.' 

The  serious  imitators  of  Johnson's  style,  whether 
intentionally  or  by  the  imperceptible  effect  of  its 
strength  and  animation,  are,  as  1  have  had  already 
occasion  to  observe,  so  many,  that  I  might  introduce 
quotations  from  a  numerous  body  of  writers  in  our 
language,  since  he  appeared  in  the  literary  world.  1 
shall  point  out  the  following : 

WILLIAM    ROBERTSON,  D.  D. 

"  In  other  parts  of  the  globe,  man,  in  his  rudest  state, 
appears  as  Lord  of  the  creation,  giving  law  to  various 
tribes  of  animals  which  he  has  tamed  and  reduced  to 
subjection.  The  Tartar  follows  his  prey  on  the  horse 
which  he  has  reared,  or  tends  his  numerous  herds 
which  furnish  him  both  with  food  and  clothing ;  the 
Arab  has  rendered  the  camel  docile,  and  avails  himself 
of  its  persevering  strength  ;  the  Laplander  has  formed 
the  rein-deer  to  be  subservient  to  his  will ;  and  even 
the  people  of  Kamschatka  have  trained  their  dogs  to 
labour.  This  command  over  the  inferiour  creatures  is 
one  of  the  noblest  prerogatives  of  man,  and  among  the 
greatest  efforts  of  his  wisdom  and  power.     Without 

'  "  Higgledy  piggledy, — -Conglomeration  and  confusion. 

"  Hedge-podge, —  A  culinary  mixture  of  heterogeneous  ingredients  :  applied  met- 
aphorically to  all  discordant  combinations. 

"  Tit  for  Tat, — Adequate  retaliation. 

"  Sh'dly  Shally, — ^Hesitation  and  irresolution. 

"  Fee  !  fa  !  fum  ! — Gigantick  intonations. 

"  Rigmarole,— Yi\%zo\yc?,Q,  incoherent  and  rhapsodical, 

"  Crincurrfcrancum, — Lines  of  irregularity  and  involution. 

"  Ding-dong, — Tintinabulary  chimes,  used  metaphorically  to  signify  dispatcb^and 
vehemence." 


46^8  THE    LIFE    OP 

1784.  this,  his  dominion   is  incomplete.     He  is  a  monarch 
"^^  who  has  no  subjects ;  a  master  without  servants  ;  and 
75.    must  perform  every  operation  by   the  strength  of  his 
own  arm.^'^ 

EDWARD  GIBBON,  ESQ. 

"  Of  all  our  passions  and  appetites,  the  love  of  power 
is  of  the  most  imperious  and  unsociable  nature,  since 
the  pride  of  one  man  requires  the  submission  of  the 
multitude.  In  the  tumult  of  civil  discord  the  laws  of 
Society  lose  their  force,  and  their  place  is  seldom  sup- 
plied by  those  of  humanity.  The  ardour  of  contention, 
the  pride  of  victory,  the  despair  of  success,  the  memory 
of  past  injuries,  and  the  fear  of  future  dangers,  all  con- 
tribute to  inflame  the  mind,  and  to  silence  the  voice 
of  pity."  3 

MISS  BURNEY. 

"  My  family,  mistaking  ambition  for  honour,  and 
rank  for  dignity,  have  long  planned  a  splendid  con- 
nection for  me,  to  which,  though  my  invariable  repug- 
nance has  stopped  any  advances,  their  wishes  and  their 
views  immoveably  adhere,  I  am  but  too  certain  they 
will  now  listen  to  no  other.  1  dread,  therefore,  to  make 
a  trial  where  I  despair  of  success  ;  1  know  not  how  to 
risk  a  prayer  with  those  who  may  silence  me  by  a 
command."*  ^ 

REV.  MR.  NARES.5 

"  In  an  enlightened  and  improving  age,  much  per- 
haps is  not  to  be  apprehended  from  the  inroads  of  mere 
caprice  ;  at  such  a  period  it  will  generally  be  perceived, 

^  "  History  of  America  :"  Vol.  I.  quarto,  p.  332. 

^ "  Decline  and  Fall  of  the  Roman  Empire,"  Vol.  I.  Chap.  IV. 

'  "  Cecilia,"  Book  VII.  Chap.  I. 

'  The  passages  which  I  quote  are  taken  from  that  gentleman's  "  Elements  at 
Orthoept  ;  containing  a  distinct  View  of  the  whole  Analogy  of  the  English 
Language,  so  far  as  relates  to  Pronunciation,  Accent,  and  Quantity,  London,  1784. 
I  beg  leave  to  ofFer  my  particular  acknowledgements  to  the  authour  of  a  work  of 
uncommon  merit  and  great  utility.  I  know  no  book  which  contains,  in  the  same 
compass,  more  learning,  polite  Uteratnre,  sonnd  sense,  accuracy  o/  arrangement, 
and  perspicuity  of  expression. 


DR.   JOHNSON.  469 

that  needless  irregularity  is  the  worst  of  all  deformities,  1784. 
and  that  nothing  is  so  truly  elegant  in  language  as  the  ^T^^ 
simplicity  of  unviolated  analogy. — Rules  will,  there-  ^^^^' 
fore,  be  observed,  so  far  as  they  are  known  and  ac- 
knowledged :  but,  at  the  same  time,  the  desire  of 
improvement  having  been  once  excited  will  not  remain 
inactive  ;  and  its  efforts,  unless  assisted  by  knowledge, 
as  much  as  they  are  prompted  by  zeal,  will  not  un- 
frequently  be  found  pernicious  ;  so  that  the  very 
persons  whose  intention  it  is  to  perfect  the  instrument 
of  reason,  will  deprave  and  disorder  it  unknowingly. 
At  such  a  time,  then,  it  becomes  peculiarly  necessary 
that  the  analogy  of  language  should  be  fully  examined 
and  understood  ;  that  its  rules  should  be  carefully  laid 
down  ;  and  that  it  should  be  clearly  known  how  much 
it  contains,  which  being  already  right  should  be  de- 
fended from  change  and  violation  ;  how  much  it  has 
that  demands  amendment  ;  and  how  much  that,  for 
fear  of  greater  inconveniences,  must,  perhaps,  be  left, 
unaltered,  though  irregular." 

A  distinguished  authour  in  "  The  Mirror,"^  a 
periodical  paper,  published  at  Edinburgh,  has  imitated 
Johnson  very  closely.  Thus,  in  No.  16. — "  The  effects 
of  the  return  of  spring  have  been  frequently  remarked 
as  well  in  relation  to  the  human  mind  as  to  the  animal 
and  vegetable  world.  The  reviving  power  of  this 
season  has  been  traced  from  the  fields  to  the  herds 
that  inhabit  them,  and  from  the  lower  classes  of  beings 
up  to  man.  Gladness  and  joy  are  described  as  prevad- 
ing  through  universal  nature,  animating  the  low  of  the 
cattle,  the  carol  of  the  birds,  and  the  pipe  of  the  shep- 
herd." 

The  Reverend  Dr.  Knox,  master  of  Tunbridge 
school,  appears  to  have  the  imitari  aveo  of  Johnson's 
style  perpetually  in  his  mind  ;  and  to  his  assiduous, 
though  not  servile  study  of  it,  we  may  partly  ascribe 
the  extensive  popularity  of  his  writings.^ 

'  That  collection  was  presented  to  Dr.  Johnson,  I  believe  by  its  authours ;  and 
I  heard  him  speak  very  well  of  it. 

'  It  were  to  be  wished,  that  he  had  imitated  that  great  man  in  every  respect, 
and  had  not  followed  the  example  of  Dr.  Adam  Smith,  in  ungraciously  attacking 


470  THE    LIFE    OP 

1784.  In  his  "  Essays,  Moral  and  Literary,"  No.  3,  we 
2^J^  find  the  following  passage  : — "  The  polish  of  external 
75.  grace  may  indeed  be  deferred  till  the  approach  of  man- 
hood. When  solidity  is  obtained  by  pursuing  the 
modes  prescribed  by  our  fore-fathers,  then  may  the  file 
be  used.  The  firm  substance  will  bear  attrition,  and 
the  lustre  then  acquired  will  be  durable." 

There  is,  however,  one  in  No.  11,  which  is  blown 
up  into  such  tumidity,  as  to  be  truly  ludicrous.  The 
writer  means  to  tell  us,  that  Members  of  Parliament, 
who  have  run  in  debt  by  extravagance,  will  sell  their 
votes  to  avoid  an  arrest,^  which  he  thus  expresses  ; — 
"  They  who  build  houses  and  collect  costly  pictures  and 
furnitures,  with  the  money  of  an  honest  artisan  or  me- 
chanick,  will  be  very  glad  of  emancipation  from  the 
hands  of  a  bailiff,  by  a  sale  of  their  senatorial  suffrage." 
But  1  think  the  most  perfect  imitation  of  Johnson  is 
a  professed  one,  entitled  "  A  Criticism  on  Gray's 
Elegy  in  a  Country  Church-Yard,"  said  to  be  written 
by  Mr.  Young,  Professor  of  Greek,  at  Glasgovi^,  and 
of  which  let  him  have  the  credit,  unless  a  better  title 
can  be  shewn.  It  has  not  only  the  particularities  of 
Johnson's  style,  but  that  very  species  of  literary  discus- 
sion and  illustration  for  which  he  was  eminent.  Hav- 
ing already  quoted  so  much  from  others,  I  shall  refer 
the  curious  to  this  performance,  with  an  assurance  of 
much  entertainment. 

his  venerable  Alma  Mater,  Oxford.  It  must,  however,  be  observed,  that  he  is 
much  less  to  blame  than  Smith  :  he  only  objects  to  certain  particulars ;  Smith  to 
the  whole  institution  ;  though  indebted  for  much  of  his  learning  to  an  exhibition 
which  he  enjoyed,  for  many  years  at  Balliol  College.  Neither  of  them,  however, 
will  do  any  hurt  to  the  noblest  university  in  the  world.  While  I  animadvert  on 
what  appears  to  me,  exceptionable  in  some  of  the  works  of  Dr.  Knox,  I  cannot 
refuse  due  praise  to  others  of  his  productions  ;  particularly  his  sermons,  and  to 
the  spirit  with  which  he  maintains,  against  presumptuous  hereticks,  the  consola- 
tory doctrines  peculiar  to  the  Christian  Revelation.  This  he  has  done  in  a  man- 
ner equally  strenuous  and  conciliating.  Neither  ought  I  to  omit  mentioning  a 
remarkable  instance  of  his  candour.  Notwithstanding  the  wide  difference  of  our 
opinions,  upon  the  important  subject  of  University  education,  in  a  letter  to  me 
concerning  this  Work,  he  thus  expresses  himself :  "  I  thank  you  for  the  very  great 
entertainment  your  Life  of  Johnson  gives  me.  It  is  a  most  valuable  work.  Yours 
is  a  new  species  of  biography.  Happy  for  Johnson,  that  he  had  so  able  a  record- 
er of  his  wit  and  wisdom." 

«  "  Dr.  Knox/in  his  "  Moral  and  Literary"  abstraction,  may  be  excused  for  not 
knowing  the  political  regulations  of  liis  country.  No  senator  can  be  in  the  hands 
of  a  bailiff. 


DR.  iJOHNSON.  471 

Yet  whatever  merit  there  may  be  in  any  imitations  1784. 
of  Johnson^s  style,  every  good  judge  must  see  that  they  "^^^ 
are  obviously  different  from  the  original ;  for  all  of  them   75, ' 
are  either  deficient  in  its  force,  or  overloaded   with  its 
peculiarities  ;  and  the  powerful  sentiment  to  which  it 
is  suited  is  not  to  be  found. 

Johnson's  affection  for  his  departed  relations  seemed 
to  grow  warmer  as  he  approached  nearer  to  the  time 
when  he  might  hope  to  see  them  again.  It  probably 
appeared  to  him  that  he  should  upbraid  himself  with 
unkind  inattention,  were  he  to  leave  the  world  without 
having  paid  a  tribute  of  respect  to  their  memory. 

"to  MR.  GREEN,  APOTHECARY,  AT  LICHFIELD. « 
"  DEAR  SIR, 

"  I  HAVE  enclosed  the  Epitaph  for  my  Father, 
Mother,  and  Brother,  to  be  all  engraved  on  the  large 
size,  and  laid  in  the  middle  aisle  in  St.  Michael's  church, 
which  I  request  the  clergyman  and  church- wardens  to 
permit. 

"  The  first  care  must  be  to  find  the  exact  place  of 
interment,  that  the  stone  may  protect  the  bodies.  Then 
let  the  stone  be  deep,  massy,  and  hard  ;  and  do  not  let 
the  difference  of  ten  pounds,  or  more,  defeat  our 
purpose. 

"  I  have  enclosed  ten  pounds,  and  Mrs.  Porter  will 
pay  you  ten  more,  which  I  gave  her  for  the  same  pur- 
pose. What  more  is  wanted  shall  be  sent ;  and  I  beg 
that  all  possible  haste  may  be  made,  for  I  wish  to  have  . 
it  done  while  I  am  yet  alive.  Let  me  know,  dear  Sir, 
that  you  receive  this. 

"  I  am.  Sir, 
"  Your  most  humble  servant, 
"  Dec.  2,  1784.  "  Sam.  Johnson.'' 

♦  See  Vol.  II.  p.  269. 


472  THE    LIFE    OF 


J784. 
75. 


"to  MRS.  LUCY  PORTER,  IN  LICHFIELD.' 
'  DEAR  MADAM, 

"  1  AM  very  ill,  and  desire  your  prayers.  I  have 
sent  Mr.  Green  the  Epitaph,  and  a  power  to  call  on  you 
for  ten  pounds. 

"  1  laid  this  summer  a  stone  over  Tetty,  in  the  chapel 
of  Bromley,  in  Kent.  The  inscription  is  in  Latin,  of 
which  this  is  the  English.     [Here  a  translation.] 

"  That  this  is  done,  I  thought  it  fit  that  you  should 
know.  What  care  will  be  taken  of  us,  who  can  tell  ? 
May  God  pardon  and  bless  us,  for  Jesus  Christ's 
sake. 

"  I  am,  &c. 
"  Dec.  2,  1784.  "  Sam.  Johnson." 

My  readers  are  now,  at  last,  to  behold  Samuel 
Johnson  preparing  hims.^lf  for  that  doom,  from  which 
the  most  exalted  powers  afford  no  exemption  to  man. 
Death  had  always  been  to  him  an  object  of  terrour  ;  so 
that,  though  by  no  means  happy,  he  still  clung  to  life 
with  an  eagerness  at  which  many  have  wondered.  At 
any  time  when  he  was  ill,  he  was  very  much  pleased  to 
be  told  that  he  looked  better.  An  ingenious  member 
of  the  Eumelian  Club''  informs  me,  that  upon  one  oc- 
casion, when  he  said  to  him  that  he  saw  health  return- 
ing to  his  cheek,  Johnson  seized  him  by  the  hand  and 
exclaimed,  "  Sir,  you  are  one  of  the  kindest  friends  I 
ever  had." 

His  own  state  of  his  views  o^  futurity  will  appear 
truly  rational ;  and  may,  perhaps,  impress  the  unthink- 
ing with  seriousness. 

"  You  know,  (says  he, 3)  I  never  thought  confidence 
with  respect  to  futurity,  any  part  of  the  character  of  a 

'  [This  lady,  whose  name  so  frequently  occurs  in  the  course  of  tliis  work,  sur- 
▼ived  Dr.  Johnson  just  thirteen  months.  She  died  at  Lichfield  in  her  7 1st  year, 
January  13,  17X6,  and  bequeathed  the  principal  part  of  her  fortune  to  the  Rev. 
Mr.  Pearson,  of  Lichfield.     M.] 

^  A  club  in  London,  founded  by  the  learned  and  ingenious  physician.  Dr.  Ash, 
in  honour  of  whose  name  it  was  called  Eumdian^  from  the  Greek  Ei/afXia?  :  though 
it  was  warmly  contended,  and  even  put  to  a  vote,  that  it  should  have  the  more 
obvious  appellation  of  Fraxinean,  from  the  Latin. 

•  Mrs.  Thrale's  Collection,  March  10,  1784.    Vol.  II.  p.  3. 


,// 


Jl; 


jlif.Xvv^, 


p- 


/ 

( 


wiyi^mm^J^ 


1 


DR.   JOHNSON.  47s 

brave,  a  wise,  or  a  good  man.     Bravery  has  no  place  1784, 
where  it  can  avail  nothing;  wisdom  impresses  strongly  ^^ 
the  consciousness  of  those  faults,  of  which  it  is,  perhaps,    75. ' 
itself  an  aggravation  ;  and  goodness,  always  wishing  to 
be  better,  and  imputing  every  deficience  to  criminal  neg- 
ligence, and  every  faidt  to  voluntary  corruption,   never 
dares  to  suppose  the  condition  of  forgiveness  fulfilled, 
nor  what  is  wanting  in  the  crime  supplied  by  penitence. 

"  This  is  ttie  state  of  the  best ;  but  what  must  be 
•the  condition  of  him  whose  heart  will  not  suffer  him  to 
rank  himself  among  the  best,  or  among  the  good  ?  Such 
must  be  his  dread  of  the  approaching  trial,  as  will  leave 
him  little  attention  to  the  opinion  of  those  whom  he  is 
leaving  for  ever  ;  and  the  serenity  that  is  not  felt,  it  can 
be  no  virtue  to  feign." 

His  great  fear  of  death,  and  the  strange  dark  manner 
in  which  Sir  John  Hawkins  imparts  the  uneasiness 
which  he  expressed  on  account  of  offences  with  which 
he  charged  himself,  may  give  occasion  to  injurious 
suspicions,  as  if  there  had  been  something  of  more  than 
ordinary  criminality  weighing  upon  his  conscience. 
On  that  account,  therefore,  as  well  as  from  the  regard 
to  truth  which  he  inculcated,*  1  am  to  mention,  (with 
all  possible  respect  and  delicacy,  however,)  that  his 
conduct,  after  he  came  to  London,  and  had  associated 
with  Savage  and  others,  was  not  so  strictly  virtuous,  in 
one  respect,  as  when  he  was  a  younger  man.  It  was 
well  known,  that  his  amorous  inclinations  were  uncom- 
monly strong  and  impetuous.  He  owned  to  many  of 
his  friends,  that  he  used  to  take  women  of  the  town  to 
taverns,  and  hear  them  relate  their  history. — In  short, 
it  must  not  be  concealed,  that,  like  many  other  good 
and  pious  men,  among  whom  we  may  place  the  apostle 
Paul  upon  his  own  authority,  Johnson  was  not  free, 
from  propensities  which  were  ever  "warring  against 
the  law  of  his  mind," — and  that  in  his  combats  with 
them,  he  was  sometimes  overcome. 

Here  let  the  profane  and  licentious  pause  ;  let  them 
not  thoughtlessly  say  that  Johnson  was  an  hijpQcrite^ 

See  what  he  taid  to  Mr.  Malone,  pp.  181,  182,  of  this  Tohime, 
VOL.  III.  60 


47-1  XHE    LIFE    OP 

1784,  or  that  his  principles  were  not  firm,  because  his  jor«c- 
^^  tice  was  not  uniformly  conformable  to  what  he  professed. 
75. '  Let  the  question  be  considered  independent  of  moral 
and  religious  associations  ;  and  no  man  will  deny  that 
thousands,  in  many  instances,  act  against  conviction. 
Is  a  prodigal,  for  example,  an  hjpocrite^  when  he  owns 
he  is  satisfied  that  his  extravagance  will  bring  him  to 
ruin  and  misery  \  We  are  sure  he  believes  it ;  but  im- 
mediate inclination,  strengthened  by  indulgence,  pre- 
vails over  that  belief  in  influencing  his  conduct.  Why 
then  shall  credit  be  refused  to  the  sincerity  of  those 
who  acknowledge  their  persuasion  of  moial  and  relig- 
ious duty,  yet  sometimes  f^^il  of  living  as  it  requires  ?  I 
heard  Dr.  Johnson  once  observe,  "  1  here  is  something 
noble  in  publishing  truth,  though  it  condemns  one's 
self."^  And  one  who  said  in  his  presence,  "  he  had  no 
notion  of  people  being  in  earnest  in  their  good  profes- 
sions, whose  practice  was  not  suitable  to  them,"  was 
thus  reprimanded  by  him  : — "  Sir,  are  you  so  grossly 
ignorant  of  human  nature  as  not  to  know  that  a  man 
may  be  very  sincere  in  good  principles,  without  having 
good  practice  !"  ^ 

But  let  no  man  encourage  or  soothe  himself  in  "  pre- 
sumptuous sin,"  from  knowing  that  Johnson  was  some- 
times hurried  into  indulgences  which  he  thought  crim- 
inal. I  have  exhibited  this  circumstance  as  a  shade  in 
so  great  a  character,  both  from  my  sacred  love  of  truth, 
and  to  shew  that  he  was  not  so  weakly  scrupulous  as 
he  has  been  represented  by  those  who  imagine  that  the 
sins,  of  which  a  deep  sense  was  upon  his  mind,  were 
merely  such  little  venial  trifles  as  pouring  milk  into  his 
tea  on  Good  Friday.  His  understanding  will  be  de- 
fended by  my  statement,  if  his  consistency  of  conduct 
be  in  some  degree  impaired.  But  what  wise  man  would, 
for  momentary  gratifications,  deliberately  subject  him- 

■■  Journal  of  a  Tour  to  the  Hebrides,  3d.  edit.  p.  209.  On  the  same  subject,  in 
his  Letter  to  Mrs.  Thrale,  dated  Nov.  29,  1783,  he  makes  the  following  just  obser- 
vation :  "  Life,  to  be  worthy  of  a  rational  being,  must  be  always  in  progression  ; 
we  must  always  purpose  to  do  more  or  better  than  in  time  past.  The  mind  is  en- 
larged and  elevated  by  mere  purposes,  though  they  end  as  they  began,  bv  air\ 
contemplation.     We  compare  and  judge,  though  we  do  not  practise." 

0  Ibid.  p.  374. 


DR.    JOHNSON.  47o 

self  to  suffer  such  uneasiness  as  we  find  was  experienc-  •784. 
ed  by  Johnson  in  reviewing  his  conduct  as  compared  ^^ 
with  his  notion  of  the  ethicks  of  the  gospel  ?  Let  the  75. 
following  passages  be  kept  in  remembrance  :  "  O,  God, 
giver  and  preserver  of  all  life,  by  whose  power  1  was 
created,  and  by  whose  providence  1  am  sustained,  look 
down  upon  me  with  tenderness  and  mercy  ;  grant  that 
I  may  not  have  been  created  to  be  finally  destroyed  ; 
that  I  may  not  be  preserved  to  add  wickedness  to  wick- 
edness.^' ^ — "  O,  Lord,  let  me  not  sink  into  total  de- 
pravity ;  look  down  upon  me,  and  rescue  me  at  last 
from  the  captivity  of  sin."  ^ — "  Almighty  and  most 
merciful  Father,  who  hast  continued  my  life  from  year 
to  year,  grant  that  by  longer  life  I  may  become  less  de- 
sirous of  sinful  pleasures,  and  more  careful  of  eternal 
happiness.'' 5 — "  Let  not  my  years  be  multiplied  to  in- 
crease my  guilt ;  but  as  my  age  advances,  let  me  be- 
come more  pure  in  my  thoughts,  more  regular  in  my 
desires,  and  more  obedient  to  thy  laws."'  "  Forgive, 
O  merciful  Lord,  whatever  1  have  done  contrary  to 
thy  laws.  Give  me  such  a  sense  of  my  wickedness  as 
may  produce  true  contrition  and  effectual  repentance  ; 
so  that  when  I  shall  be  called  into  another  state,  I  may 
be  received  among  the  sinners  to  whom  sorrow  and 
reformation  have  obtained  pardon,  for  Jesus  Christ's 
sake.     Amen."^ 

Such  was  the  distress  of  mind,  such  the  penitence  of 
Johnson,  in  his  hours  of  privacy,  and  in  his  devout  ap- 
proaches to  his  Maker.  His  sincerity^  therefore,  must 
appear  to  every  candid  mind  unquestionable. 

It  is  of  essential  consequence  to  keep  in  view,  that 
there  was  in  this  excellent  man's  conduct  no  false  prin- 
ciple of  cominufution^  no  deliberate  indulgence  in  sin, 
in  consideration  of  a  counterbalance  of  duty.  His  of- 
fending, and  his  repenting,  were  distinct  and  separate  :^ 
and  when  we  consider  his  almost  unexampled  attention 

'  Prayers  and  Meditations,  p.  47.  s  i^id.  p.  68. 

Ibid.  p.  84.  '  Ibid.  p.  120.  ^  Ibid.  p.  130. 

'  Dr.  Johnson  related,  with  very  earnest  approbation,  a  story  of  a  gentleman, 
who,  in  an  impulse  of  passion,  overcame  the  virtue  of  a  young  woman.  When 
she  said  to  him,  "  I  am  afraid  we  have  done  wrong  !"  he  answered, "  Yes,  we  have 
done  wrong  ; — for  I  would  not  debauch  her  mind." 


47()  THE    LIFE    OP 

17B4.  to  truth,  his  inflexible  integrity,  his  constant  piety,  who 
^^  will  dare  to  "  cast  a  stone  at  him  !"  Besides,  let  it  never 
75.  be  forgotten,  that  he  cannot  be  charged  with  any  of- 
fence indicating  badness  oi  heart,  any  thing  dishonest, 
base,  or  malignant ;  but,  that,  on  the  contrary,  he  was 
charitable  in  an  extraordinary  degree :  so  that  even  in 
one  of  his  own  rigid  judgements  of  himself,  (!^2aster-eve, 
1781,)  while  he  says,  "  1  have  corrected  no  ext<^rnal 
habits  ;"  he  is  obliged  to  own,  "  1  hope  that  since  my 
last  communion  1  have  advanced,  by  pious  refl(^ctions, 
fn  my  submission  to  God,  and  my  benevolence  to 
man."* 

1  am  conscious  that  this  is  the  most  diffif^ult  and  dan- 
gerous part  of  my  biographical  work,  and  1  cannot  but 
be  very  anxious  concerning  it.  1  trust  that  I  have  got 
through  it,  preserving  at  once  my  regard  to  truth, — to 
my  friend, — and  to  the  interests  of  virtue  and  religion. 
Nor  can  I  apprehend  that  more  harm  can  ensue  from 
the  knowledge  of  the  irregularities  of  Johnson,  guarded 
as  1  have  stated  it,  than  from  knowing  that  Addison 
and  Parnell  were  intemperate  in  the  use  of  wine;  which 
he  himself,  in  his  Lives  of  those  celebrated  writers  and 
pious  men,  has  not  forborne  to  record. 

It  is  not  my  intention  to  give  a  very  minute  detail  f>f 
the  particulars  of  Johnson's  remaining  days,  of  whom  it 
was  now  evident,  that  the  crisis  was  fast  approaching, 
■when  he  must  "  die  like  men,  and  fall  like  one  of  the 
Princes"  Yet  it  will  be  instructive,  as  well  as  grati- 
fying to  the  curiosity  of  my  readers,  to  record  a  {ew 
circumstances,  on  the  authenticity  of  which  they  may 
perfectly  rely,  as  I  have  been  at  the  utmost  pains  to 
obtain  an  accurate  account  of  his  last  illness,  from  the 
best  authority. 

Dr.  Heberden,  Dr.  Brooklesby,  Dr.  Warren,  and  Dr. 
Butter,  physicians,  generously  attended  him,  without 
accepting  any  fees,  as  did  Mr.  Cruikshank,  surgeon  ; 
and  all  that  could  be  done  from  professional  skill  and 
ability,  was  tried,  to  prolong  a  life  so  truly  valuable. 
He  himself,  indeed,  having,  on  account  of  his  very  bad 

*  Prayers  and  Meditations,  p.  ISS*. 


DR.    JOHNSON.  477 

constitution,  been  perpetually  applying  himself  to  med-  1 784. 
ical  enquiries,  united  his  own  effbits  uith  those  of  the  ^^ 
gentlemen  who  attended  him  ;  and  imagining  that  the    75.  ' 
dropsical  colleciion  of  water  which  oppressed  hmi  might 
be  drawn  off  by  making  incisions  in  his  body,  he,  with 
his  usual  resolute  dtfiance  of  pain,  cut  deep  when  he 
thought  that  his  surgeon  had  done  it  too  tenderly.  ^ 

About  eight  or  ten  days  before  his  death,  when  Dr. 
Brocklesby  paid  him  his  morning  visit,  he  seemed  very 
low  and  desponding,  and  said,  "  I  have  been  as  a  dying 
man  all  night."  He  then  emphatically  broke  out  in 
the  words  of  Shakspeare, 

"  Can'st  thou  not  minister  to  a  mind  diseased ; 
"  Pluck  from  the  memory  a  rooted  sorrow  ; 
"  Raze  out  the  written  troubles  of  the  brain  ; 
"  And,  with  some  sweet  oblivious  antidote, 
"  Cleanse  the  stuff'd  bosom  of  that  perilous  stuff, 
"  Which  weighs  upon  the  heart  I" 

To  which  Dr.  Brocklesby  readily  answered,  from  the 
same  great  poet  : 

therein  the  patient 


"  Must  minister  to  himselt." 

Johnson  expressed  himself  much  satisfied  with  th^  ap- 
plication. 

On  another  day  after  this,  when  talking  on  the  sub- 
ject of  prayer,  Dr.  Brocklesby  repeated  from  Juvenal, 

"  Orandum  est,  ut  sit  mens  Sana  in  corporae  sano" 

and  so  on  to  the  end  of  the  tenth  satire  ;  but  in  running 
it  quickly  over,  he  happened,  in  the  line, 

"  Qui  spntium  vitce  extremum  inter  munera  ponat" 

'  This  bold  experiment,  Sir  John  Hawkins  has  related  In  such  a  manner  as  to 
suggest  a  charge  against  Johnson  of  intentionally  hastening  his  end ;  a  charge  so 
very  inconsistent  with  his  character  in  every  respect,  that  it  is  injurious  even  to 
refute  it,  as  Sir  John  has  thought  it  necessary  to  do.  It  is  evident,  that  what 
Johnson  did  in  hopes  *i  relief,  indicated  ^a  extraordinary  eagerness  to  retard  his 
•dissolution. 


478  THE    LIFE    OF 

1784.  to  pronounce  supremuin  for  cxtremum ;  at  which  John- 
^^  son's  critical  ear  instantly  took  offence,  and  discoursing 
75.    vehemently  on  the  un metrical  efl^ect  of  such  a  lapse,  he 
shewed  himself  as  full  as  ever  of  the  spirit  of  the  gram- 
marian. 

Having  no  other  relations,'^  it  had  been  for  some 
time  Johnson's  intention  to  make  a  liberal  provision  for 
his  faithful  servant,  Mr.  Francis  Barber,  whom  he  look- 
ed upon  as  particularly  under  his  protection,  and  whom 
he  had  all  along  treated  truly  as  an  humble  friend. 
Having  asked  Dr.  Brocklesby  what  would  be  a  proper 
annuity  to  a  favourite  servant,  and  being  answered  that 
it  must  depend  on  the  circumstances  of  the  master  ; 
and,  that  in  the  case  of  a  nobleman,  fifty  pounds  a  year 
was  considered  as  an  adequate  reward  for  many  years* 
faithful  service  ; — "  Then,  (said  Johnson.)  shall  I  be 
nobUissimus^  for  I  mean  to  leave  Frank  seventy  pounds 
a  year,  and  1  desire  you  to  tell  him  so."  It  is  strange, 
however,  to  think,  that  .lohnson  was  not  free  from  that 
general  weakness  of  being  averse  to  execute  a  will,  so 
that  he  delayed  it  from  time  to  time  ;  and  had  it  not 
been  for  Sir  John  Hawkins's  repeatedly  urging  it,  I 
think  it  is  probable  that  his  kind  resolution  would  not 
have  been  fulfilled.      After  making  one,  which,  as  Sir 

''  [The  authour  in  a  former  page  has  shewn  the  injustice  of  Sir  John  Hawkins's 
charge  against  Johnson,  with  respect  to  a  person  of  the  name  of  Heely,  whom  he 
has  inaccurately  represented  as  a  relation  of  Johnson's.  See  p.  450. — That  John- 
son was  anxious  to  discover  whether  any  of  his  relations  w^ere  hving,  is  evinced 
by  the  following  letter,  written  not  long  before  he  made  his  Will  : 

"  TO  THE   REV.  DR.  VYSE,  IDftAMBETH. 
"   SIR, 

"  I  AM  desirous  to  know  whether  Charles  Scrimshaw  of  Woodsease 
(I  think,)  in  your  father's  neighbourhood  be  now  living  ;  what  is  his  condition, 
and  where  he  may  be  found.  If  you  can  conveniently  make  any  enquiry  about  him, 
and  can  do  it  without  delay,  it  will  be  an  act  of  great  kindness  to  me,  he  being 
very  nearly  related  to  me.     I  beg  [you]  to  pardon  this  trouble. 

"  I  am,  Sir, 

"  Your  most  humble  servant, 
"  Bolt-court,  Fleet-street,  "  Sam.  Johnson." 

Nov.  29,  1  784. 

In  conformity  to  the  wish  expressed  in  the  preceding  letter,  an  enquiry  was 
made,  but  no  descendants  of  Charles  Scrimshaw  or  of  his  sisters,  were  discovered 
to  be  hving.  Dr.  Vyse  informs  mc,  that  Dr.  Johnson  told  him,  "  he  was  disap- 
pointed in  the  enquiries  he  had  made  after  his  relations."  There  is  therefore  no 
ground  whatsoever  for  supposing  that  he  was  unmindful  of  them,  or  neglected 
thera.     M.] 


DR.    JOHNSON.  479 

John  Hawkins  informs  us,  extended  no  further  than  >784. 
the  promised  annuity,  Johnson's  final  disposition  <J^  his  ^J^ 
property  was  estabhshed  by  a  Will  and  Codicil,  of  which  75.  ' 
copies  are  subjoined.^ 

'  "  In  the  Name  of  God.  Amen.  I,  Samuel  Johnson,  being  in  full  posses- 
sion of  my  faculties,  but  fearing  tiiis  night  may  put  an  end  to  my  life,  do  ordain 
this  my  last  Will  and  Testament.  I  bequeath  to  God,  a  soul  polluted  by  many 
sins,  but  I  hope  purified  by  Jesus  Christ. — I  leave  seven  hundred  and  fifty 
pounds  in  the  hands  of  Bennet  Langton,  Esq. ;  three  hundred  pounds  in  the 
hands  of  Mr.  Barclay  and  Mr.  Perkins,  brewers  ;  one  hundred  and  filty  pounds 
in  the  hands  of  Dr.  Percy,  Bishop  of  Dromore  ;  one  thousand  pounds,  three  per 
cent,  annuities  iji  the  publick  funds  ;  and  one  hundred  pounds  now  lying  by  me 
in  ready  money  :  all  these  before-mentioned  sums  and  property  I  leave,  I  say,  to 
Sir  Joshua  Reynolds,  Sir  John  Hawkins,  and  Dr.  William  bcott,  of  Doctors  Com- 
mons, in  trust,  for  the  following  uses  : — That  is  to  say,  to  pay  to  the  representa- 
tives of  the  late  William  Innys,  bookseller,  in  St.  Paul's  Church-yard,  the  sum  of  two 
hundred  pounds  ;  to  A'Irs.  White,  my  female  servant,  one  hundred  pounds  stock 
in  the  three /c-r  cent,  annuities  aforesaid.  The  rest  of  the  aforesaid  sums  of  money 
and  property,  together  with  my  books,  plate,  and  household  furniture,  1  leave 
to  the  before-mentioned  Sir  Joshua  Reynolds,  Sir  John  Hawkins,  and  Dr.  Will- 
iam Scott,  also  in  trust,  to  be  apphed,  after  paying  my  debts,  to  the  use  of  Fran- 
cis Barber,  my  man-servant,  a  negro,  in  such  manner  as  they  shall  judge  most  fit 
and  available  to  his  benefit.  And  I  appoint  the  aforesaid  Sir  Joshua  Reynolds, 
Sir  John  Hawkins,  and  Dr.  William  Scott,  sole  executors  of  this  my  last  wll  and 
testament,  hereby  revoking  all  former  wills  and  testaments  whatever.  In  wimess 
whereof  I  hereunto  subscribe  my  name,  and  affix  my  seal,  this  eighth  day  of  De- 
cember, 1784. 

"  Sam.  Johnson,  (L.  S.) 

"  Signed,  sealed,  published,  declared  and  delivered,  by  the  said  testator,  aj 
his  last  will  and  testament,  in  the  presence  of  us,  the  word  tivo  being 
£rst  inserted  in  the  opposite  page. 

"  George  Strauan. 

"  John  Desmoulins." 

•'  By  way  of  Codicil  to  my  last  will  and  testament,  I,  Saml  el  Johnson,  give, 
devise,  and  bequeath,  my  messuage  or  tenement  situate  at  Lichfield,  in  the  county 
of  Stafford,  Vvith  the  appurtenances  in  the  tenure  and  occupation  o.  Mrs.  Bond, 
of  Lichfield  aforesaid,  or  of  Mr.  Hinchman,  her  under-tenant,  to  my  executors,  in 
trust,  to  sell  and  dispose  of  the  same  ;  and  the  money  arising  from  such  sale  I 
give  and  bequeath  as  follows,  viz.  to  Thomas  and   Benjamin,  the  sons  of  Fisher 

Johnson,  late  of  Leicester,  and Whiting,  daughter  of  Thomas   Johnson, 

late  of  Coventry,  and  the  grand-daughter  of  the  said  Thomas  Johnson,  one  full 
and  equal  fourth  part  each  ;  but  in  case  there  shall  be  more  grand-daughters 
than  one  of  the  said  Thomas  Johnson,  Hving  at  the  time  of  my  decease,  1  give 
and  bequeath  the  part  or  share  of  that  one  to  and  equally  between  such  grand- 
daughters. I  give  and  bequeath  to  the  Rev.  Mr.  Rogers,  of  Berkley,  near  Froom, 
in  the  county  of  Somerset,  the  sum  of  one  hundred  pounds,  requesting  him  to 
apply  the  same  towards  the  maintenance  of  Elizabeth  Heme,  a  lunatick.  I  also 
give  and  bequeath  to  my  god-children,  the  son  and  daughter  of  Mauritius  Lowe, 
painter,  each  of  them,  one  hundred  pounds  of  my  stock  in  the  three  per  cent. 
consolidated  annuities  to  be  applied  and  disposed  of  by  and  at  the  discretion  of 
my  executors,  in  the  education  or  settlement  in  the  world  of  them  my  said 
legatees.  Also  I  give  and  bequeath  to  Sir  John  Hawkins,  one  of  my  Executors, 
the  Annales  Ecclessiastici  of  Baronius,  and  Holinshed's  and  Stowe's  Chronicles, 
and  also  an  octavo  Common  Prayer-Book.  To  Bennet  Langton,  Esq.  I  give  and 
bequeath  my  Polyglot  Bible.  To  Sir  Joshua  Reynolds,  my  great  French  Diction- 
ary, by  Martiniere,  and  mv  own  copy  of  my  folio  English  Dictionary,  of  ihe  last 


480  THE    LIFE    OF 

J784.       The  consideration  of  numerous  papers  of  which  he 

^^  was  possessed,  seems  to  have  struck  Johnson's  mind, 

75.    with  a  sudden  anxiety,  and  as  they  were  in  great  con- 

re\'ision.  To  Dr.  William  Scott,  one  of  my  Executors,  the  Dictionnaire  de  Com- 
merce, and  Lectius's  edition  of  the  Greek  Poets.  To  Mr.  Windham,  Poetae  Grxci 
Heroic!  per  Henricum  Stephanum.  To  the  Rev.  Mr.  Strahan,  vicar  of  Islington, 
in  Middlesex,  Mill's  Greek  Testament,  Beza's  Greek  Testament,  by  Stephens,  ail 
my  Latin  Bibles,  and  my  Greek  Bible,  by  Wechelius.  To  Dr.  Heberden,  Dr. 
Brocklesby,  Dr.  Butter,  and  Mr.  Cruikshank,  the  surgeon  who  attended  me,  Mr. 
Holder,  my  apothecary,  Gerard  Hamilton,  Esq.  Mrs.  Gardiner,  of  Snow-hill,  Mrs. 
Frances  Reynolds,  Mr.  Hoole,  and  the  Reverend  Mr.  Hoole,  his  son,  each  a  book 
at  their  election,  to  keep  as  a  token  of  remembrance.  I  also  give  and  bequeath  to 
Mr.  John  Desmoulins,  two  hundred  pounds  consolidated  three  per  cent,  annuities  ; 
and  to  Mr.  Sastres,  the  Italian  Master,  the  sum  of  five  pounds,  to  be  laid  out  in 
books  of  piety  for  his  own  use.  And  whereas  the  said  Bennet  1  .angton  hath 
agreed  in  consideration  of  the  sum  of  seven  hundred  and  fifty  pounds,  mentioned 
in  my  will  to  be  in  his  hands,  to  grant  and  secure  an  annuity  of  seventy  pound* 
payable  during  the  life  of  me  and  my  servant,  Francis  Barber,  and  the  Ufe  of  the 
survivor  of  us,  to  Mr.  George  Stubbs,  in  trust  for  us  ;  my  mind  and  will  is,  that 
in  case  of  my  decease  before  the  said  agreement  shall  be  pertected,  the  said  sum 
of  seven  hundred  and  fifty  pounds,  and  the  bond  for  securing  the  said  sum,  shall 
fo  to  the  said  Francis  Barber  ;  and  I  hereby  give  and  bequeath  to  him  the  same, 
in  lieu  of  the  bequest  in  his  favour,  contained  in  my  said  will.  And  I  hereby  em- 
power my  Executors  to  deduct  and  retain  all  expences  that  shall  or  may  be  incur- 
red in  the  execution  of  my  said  Will,  or  of  this  Codicil  thereto,  out  of  such  estate 
and  effects  as  I  shall  die  possessed  of.  All  the  rest,  residue,  and  remainder,  of  my 
estate  and  effects  I  give  and  bequeath  to  my  said  Executors,  in  trust  for  the  said 
Francis  Barber,  his  Executors,  and  Administrators.  Witness  my  hand  and  seal, 
this  ninth  day  of  December,  1784. 

"  Sam.  Johnson,  (L.  S.) 

"  Signed,  sealed,  published,  declared  and  delivered,  by  the  said  Samuel  John- 
son, as,  and  for  a  Codicil  to  his  last  Will  and  Testament,  in  the  presence 
of  us,  who,  in  his  presence,  and  at  his  request,  and  also  in  the  presence  ot 
each  other,  have  hereto  subscribed  our  names  as  witnesses. 

"  John  Copely. 

"  William  Gibson. 

"  Henry  Cole." 

Upon  these  testamentary  deeds  it  is  proper  to  make  a  few  observations. 

His  express  declaration  with  his  dying  breath  as  a  christian,  as  it  had  been 
often  practised  in  such  solemn  writings,  was  of  real  consequence  from  this  great 
man,  for  the  conviction  of  a  mind  equally  acute  and  strong,  might  well  overbal- 
ance the  doubts  of  others  who  were  his  contemporaries.  The  expression  polluted, 
may,  to  some,  convey  an  impression  of  more  than  ordinary  contamination  ;  but 
that  is  not  warranted  by  its  genuine  meaning,  as  appears  from  "  The  Rambler," 
No.  42.  The  same  word  is  used  in  the  will  of  Dr.  Sanderson,  Bishop  of  lincoln^ 
who  was  piety  itself. 

His  legacy  of  two  hundred  pounds  to  the  representatives  of  Mr.  Innys,  book- 
seller, in  St.  Paul's  Church-yard,  proceeded  from  a  very  worthy  motive.  He  told 
Sir  John  Hawkins,  that  his  father  having  become  a  bankrupt,  Mr.  Innys  had  as- 
sisted him  with  money  or  credit  to  continue  his  business.  "  This,  (said  he)  1  con- 
sider as  an  obligation  on  me  to  be  grateful  to  his  descendants." 

The  amount  of  his  property  proved  to  be  considerably  more  than  he  had  sup- 
posed it  to  be.  Sir  John  Hawkins  estimates  the  bequest  to  Francis  Barber  at  a  sum 
little  short  of  fifteen  hundred  pounds,  including  an  annuity  of  seventy  pounds  to 
be  paid  to  him  by  Mr.  Langton,  in  consideration  of  seven  hundred  and  fifty 
pounds,  which  Johnson  had  lent  to  that  gentleman.    Sir  Jehn  seems  not  a  little 


DR.    JOHNSON.  481 

fusion,  it  is  much  to  be  lamented  that  he  had  not  en-  '784. 
trusted  some  faithful  and  discreet  person  with  the  care  ^^^ 
and  selection  of  them  ;  instead  of  which,  he,  in  a  pre-    75. 
cipitate  manner,  burnt  large  masses  of  them,  with  little 
regard,  as  I  apprehend,   to  discrimination.     Not  that  I 
suppose  we  have  thus  been  deprived  of  any  composi- 
tions which  he  had  ever  intended  for  the  publick  eye  ; 
but  from  what  escaped  the  flames,   I  judge  that  many 
curious  circumstances    relating  both    to    himself  and 
other  literary  characters,  have  perished. 

Two  very  valuable  articles,  I  am  sure,  we  have  lost, 
which  were  two  quarto  volumes,  containing  a  full,  fair, 
and  most  particular  account  of  his  own  life,  from  his 
earliest  recollection.  I  owned  to  him,  that  having  acci- 
dentally seen  them,  I  had  read  a  great  deal  in  them  ; 
and  apolugizing  for  tlie  liberty  I  had  taken,  asketl  him 

anjry  at  this  bequest,  and  mutters  "  a  caveat  against  ostentatious  bounty  antf 
favour  to  negroes."  But  surely  when  a  man  has  money  entirely  of  his  own  ac- 
quisition, especially  w^hen  he  has  no  near  relations,  he  may,  without  blame,  dis- 
pose of  it  as  he  pleases,  and  with  great  propriety  to  a  faithful  servant.  Mr.  Bar- 
ber, by  the  recommendation  of  his  master,  retired  to  Lichfield,  where  he  might 
pass  the  rest  of  his  days  in  comfort. 

It  has  been  objected  that  Johnson  has  omitted  many  of  his  best  friends,  when 
leaving  books  to  several  as  tokens  of  his  last  remembrance.  The  names  of  Dr. 
Adams,  Dr.  Taylor,  Dr.  Burney,  Mr.  Hector,  Mr.  Murphy,  the  Authour  of  this 
work  and  others  who  were  intimate  with  him,  are  not  to  be  found  in  his  Will. 
This  may  be  accounted  for  by  considering,  that  as  he  was  very  near  his  dissolu- 
tion at  the  time,  he  probably  mentioned  such  as  happened  to  occur  to  him  ;  and 
that  he  may  have  recollected,  that  he  had  formerly  shewn  others  such  proofs  of 
his  regard,  that  it  was  not  necessary  to  crowd  his  Will  with  their  names.  Mrs. 
l.,ucy  Porter  was  much  displeased  that  nothing  was  left  to  her  ;  but  besides  what 
I  have  now  stated,  she  should  have  considered,  that  she  had  left  nothing  to  John- 
son by  her  Will,  which  was  made  during  his  life-time,  as  appeared  at  her  decease. 

His  enumerating  several  persons  in  one  group,  and  leaving  them  "  each  a  book 
at  their  election,"  might  possibly  have  given  occasion  to  a  curious  question  as  to 
the  order  of  choice,  had  they  not  luckily  fixed  on  di£Ferent  books.  His  library, 
though  bv  no  means  handsome  in  its  appearance,  was  sold  by  Mr.  Christie,  for 
two  hundred  and  forty-seven  pounds,  nine  shillings  ;  many  people  being  desirous 
to  have  a  book  which  had  belonged  to  Johnson.  In  many  of  them  he  had  writ- 
ten little  notes  :  sometimes  tender  memorials  of  his  departed  wife  ;  as,  "  This  was 
dear  Tetty's  book  :"  sometimes  occasional  remarks  of  diflFerent  sorts.  Mr.  Ly- 
Bons,  of  Clifford's  Inn,  has  favoured  me  with  the  two  following  : 

In  "  Holy  Rules  and  Helps  to  Devotions,  by  Bryan  Duppa,  Lord  Bishop  of 
Wmton,"  "  Prices  quidam  videtur  ddigenter  tractasse  ;   spero  non  inaud'itus. 

In  "  The  Rossicrucian  infallible  Axiomata,  by  John  Heydon,  Gent."  prefixed 
to  which  are  some  verses  addressed  to  the  authour,  signed  Ambr.  Waters,  A.  M. 
Coll.  Ex.  Oxon.  "  These  Latin  -verses  -were  ivritten  to  Hobbes  by  Bathurst,  upon  hit 
Treatise  on  Human  Nature,  and  have  no  relation  to  the  book. An  odd  fraud. 

[Francis  Barber,  Dr.  Johnson's  principal  legatee,  died  in  the  infirmary  at  Staf> 
ford,  after  undergoing  a  painful  operation,  Feb.  13,  ISOl.     M.] 

VOL.   III.  fel 


482  THE    LIFE    OF 

1784.  if  I  could  help  it.  He  placidly  answered,  "  Why,  Sir, 
^J!^  I  do  not  think  you  could  have  helped  it."  1  said  that 
75.  I  had,  for  once  in  my  life,  felt  half  an  inclination  to 
commit  theft.  It  had  come  into  my  mind  to  carry  otf 
those  two  volumes,  and  never  see  him  more.  Upon  my 
enquiring  how  this  would  have  affected  him,  "  Sir, 
(said  he,)  1  believe  I  should  have  gone  mad."^ 

During  his  last  illness,  Johnson  experienced  the 
steady  and  kind  attachment  of  his  numerous  friends. 
Mr.  Hoole  has  drawn  up  a  narrative  of  what  passed  in 
the  visits  which  he  paid  him  during  that  time,  from  the 
loth  of  November  to  the  13th  of  December,  the  day 
of  his  death,  inclusive,  and  has  favoured  me  with  a 
perusal  of  it,  with  permission  to  make  extracts,  which 
I  have  done.  Nobody  was  more  attentive  to  him  than 
Mr.  Langton,^  to  whom  he  tenderly  said,  Te  teneam 
mor'iens  (lejiciente  nianu.  And  1  think  it  highly  to  the 
honour  of  Mr.  Windham,  that  his  important  occupa- 
tions as  an  active  statesman  did  not  prevent  him  from 
paying  assiduous  respect  to  the  dying  Sage  whom  he 
revered.  Mr.  Langton  informs  me,  that,  "  one  day  he 
found  Mr.  Burke  and  four  or  five  more  friends  sitting 
with  Johnson.  Mr.  Burke  said  to  him,  '  I  am  afraid, 
Sir,  such  a  number  of  us  may  be  oppressive  to  you.' — 
'  No,  Sir,  (said  Johnson,)  it  is  not  so  ;  and  I  must  be 
in  a  wretched  state,  indeed,  when  your  company  would 
not  be  a  delight  to  me.'      Mr.  Burke,  in  a  tremulous 

*  One  of  these  volumes,  Sir  John  Hawkins  informs  us,  he  put  into  his  pocket ; 
for  which  the  excuse  he  states  is,  that  he  meant  to  preserve  it  from  falling  int» 
the  hands  of  a  person  whom  he  describes  so  as  to  make  it  sufficiently  clear  who  is 
meant  ;  "  having  strong  reasons,  (said  he,)  to  suspect  that  this  man  might  find 
and  make  an  ill  use  of  the  book."  Why  Sir  John  should  suppose  that  the  gentle- 
man alluded  to  would  act  in  this  manner,  he  has  not  thought  fit  to  explain.  But 
what  he  did  was  not  approved  of  by  Johnson  ;  who,  upon  being  acquainted  of  it 
without  delay  by  a  friend,  expressed  great  indigTiation,  and  warmly  insisted  on 
the  book  being  delivered  up  ;  and,  afterwards,  in  the  supposition  of  his  missing 
it,  without  knowing  by  whom  it  had  been  taken,  he  said,  "  Sir,  I  should  have 
gone  out  of  the  world  distrusting  half  mankind."  Sir  John  next  day  wrote  a  let- 
ter to  Johnson,  assigning  reasons  for  his  conduct  ;  upon  which  Johnson  observed 
to  Mr.  Langton, "  Bishop  Sanderson  could  not  have  dictated  a  better  letter.  I 
could  almost  say,  Melius  est  sic  penituisse  quam  non  errasse."  The  agitation  into 
which  Johnson  was  thrown  by  this  incident,  probably  made  him  hastily  bum 
those  precious  records  which  must  ever  be  regretted. 

■'  [Mr.  Langton,  whose  name  so  often  occurs  in  these  volumes,  survived  John- 
'  son  several  years.    He  died  at  Southampton,  Dec.  18,  1801.    M.] 


DR.   JOHNSON.  48o 

voice,  expressive  of  being  very  tenderly  affected,   re-  1784. 
plied,  '  My  dear  Sir,  you  have  always  been  too  good  to  ^^ 
me.'     Immediately  afterwards  he   went  away.      This    75. 
was  the  last  circumstance  in  the  acquaintance  of  these 
two  eminent  men." 

The  following  particulars  of  his  conversation  within 
a  few  days  of  his  death,  1  give  on  the  authority  of  Mr. 
John  Nichols  :' 

'  On  the  same  undoubted  authority,  I  give  a  few  articles,  which  should  have 
¥een  inserted  in  chronological  order  ;  but  which,  now  that  they  are  before  me,  I 
should  be  sorry  to  omit  : 

"  In  1736,  Dr.  Johnson  had  a  particular  inclination  to  have  been  engaged  as  an 
assistant  to  the  Reverend  Mr.  Budworth,  then  head  master  of  the  Grammar-school, 
at  Brewood,  in  Staffordshire, '  an  excellent  person,  who  possessed  every  talent  of 
a  perfect  instructor  of  youth,  in  a  degree  which,  (to  use  the  words  of  one  of  the 
brightest  ornaments  of  literature,  the  Reverend  Dr.  Hurd,  Bishop  of  W^orcester,) 
has  been  rarely  found  in  any  of  that  profession  since  the  days  of  Ouintilian.' 
Mr.  Budworth, '  who  was  less  known  in  his  life-time,  from  that  obscure  situation 
to  which  the  caprice  of  fortune  oft  condemns  the  most  accomplished  characters, 
than  his  highest  merit  deserved,'  had  been  bred  under  Mr.  Blackwell,  at  market 
Bosworth,  where  Johnson  was  some  time  an  usher  ;  which  might  naturally  lead  to 
the  application.  Mr.  Budworth  was  certainly  no  stranger  to  the  learning  or 
abilities  of  Johnson,  as  he  more  than  once  lamented  his  having  been  under  the 
necessity  of  declining  the  engagement,  from  an  apprehension  that  the  paralytick 
affection,  under  which  our  great  Philologist  laboured  through  life,  might  become 
the  object  of  imitation  or  of  ridicule,  among  his  pupils." — Captain  Budworth,  his 
grandson,  has  confirmed  to  me  this  anecdote. 

"  Among  the  early  associates  of  Johnson,  at  St.  John's  Gate,  was  Samuel  Boyce, 
well  known  by  his  ingenious  productions  ;  and  not  less  noted  for  his  imprudence. 
It  was  not  unusual  for  Boyce  to  be  a  customer  to  the  pawnbroker.  On  one  of 
these  occasions.  Dr.  Johnson  collected  a  sum  of  money  to  redeem  his  friend's 
clothes,  which  in  two  days  after  were  pawned  again.  '  The  sum,  (said  Johnson,) 
was  collected  by  sixpences,  at  a  time  when  to  me  sixpence  was  a  serious  consid- 
eration.' 

"  Speaking  one  day  of  a  person  for  whom  he  had  a  real  friendship,  but  in 
whom  vanity  was  somewhat  too  predominant,  he  observed,  that  '  Kelly  was  so 
fond  of  displaying  on  his  side-board  the  plate  which  he  possessed,  that  he  added 
to  it  his  spurs.  For  my  part  (said  he,)  I  never  was  master  of  a  pair  of  spurs,  but 
once  ;  and  they  are  now  at  the  bottom  of  the  ocean.  By  the  carelessness  of  Bos- 
well's  servant,  they  were  dropped  from  the  end  of  the  boat,  on  our  return  from 
the  Isle  of  Sky.' 

The  late  Reverend  Mr.  Samuel  Badcock,  having  been  introduced  to  Dr.  John- 
son, by  Mr.  Nichols,  some  years  before  his  death,  thus  expressed  himself  in  a  letter 
to  that  gentleman  : 

"  How  much  I  am  obliged  to  you  for  the  favour  you  did  me  in  introducing  me 
to  Dr.  Johnson  !  Tantum  -jidi  Virgilium.  But  to  have  seen  him,  and  to  have  re- 
ceived a  testimony  of  respect  from  him,  was  enough.  I  recollect  all  the  conver- 
sation and  shall  never  forget  one  of  his  expressions — Speaking  of  Dr.  p*******^ 
(whose  writings,  I  saw,  he  estimated  at  a  low  rate,)  he  said, '  You  have  proved 
him  as  deficient  In  probity  as  he  is  in  learning.'  —  I  called  him  an  '  Index-scholar  ;' 
but  he  was  not  willing  to  allow  him  a  claim  even  to  that  merit.  He  said, '  that 
he  borrowed  from  those  who  had  been  borrowers  themselves,  and  did  not  know 
that  the  mistakes  he  adopted  had  been  answered  by  others.' — I  often  think  of  our 
short,  but  precious,  visit  to  this  great  man.  I  shall  consider  it  as  a  kind  of  an  era 
in  my  life. 


484  THE    LIFE    OF 

17B4.  "  He  said,  that  the  Parliamentary  Debates  were  the 
^i^  only  part  of  his  writings  whirh  then  gave  hiin  any  com- 
75.  punction  :  but  that  at  the  time  he  wrote  them,  he  had 
no  conception  he  was  imposing  upon  the  world,  though 
they  were  frequently  written  from  very  slender  mate- 
rials, and  often,  from  none  at  all, — the  mere  coinage  of 
his  own  imagination.  He  never  wrote  any  part  of  his 
•works  with  equal  velocity.  Three  columns  of  the 
Magazine,  in  an  hour,  was  no  uncommon  effort,  which 
was  faster  than  most  persons  could  have  transcribed 
that  quantity." 

"  Of  his  friend 'Cave,  he  always  spoke  with  great  af- 
fection. '  Yet,  (said  he,)  Cave,  (who  never  looked  out 
of  his  window,  but  with  a  view  to  the  Gentleman's 
Magazine.)  was  a  penurious  pay-master  ;  he  would 
contract  for  hnes  by  the  hundred,  and  expect  the  long 
hundred  ;  but  he  was  a  good  man,  and  always  delighted 
to  have  his  friends  at  his  table." 

"  When  talking  of  a  regular  edition  of  his  own  works, 
he  said,  that  he  had  power,  [from  the  booksellers,]  to 
print  such  an  edition,  if  his  health  admitted  it ;  but  had 
no  power  to  assign  over  any  edition,  unless  he  could 
add  notes,  and  so  alter  them  as  to  make  them  new 
works  ;  which  his  slate  of  health  forbade  him  to  think 
of.  1  may  possibly  live,  (said  he,)  or  rather  breathe, 
three  da3's,  or  perhaps  three  weeks  ;  but  find  myself 
daily  and  gradually  weaker." 

"  He  said  at  another  time,  three  or  four  days  only  be- 
fore his  death,  speaking  of  the  little  fear  he  had  of  un- 
dergoing a  chirurgical  operation,  '  1  would  give  one  of 
these  legs  for  a  year  more  of  life,  I  mean  of  comfortable 
life,  not  such  as  that  w  hich  1  now  suffer  ;' — and  la- 
mented much  his  inability  to  read  during  his  hours  of 
restlessness.  '  1  used  formerly,  (he  added,)  w  hen  sleep- 
less in  bed,  fo  read  itke  a  Tur/c." 

"  Whilst  confined  by  his  last  illness,  it  was  his  regu- 
lar practice  to  have  the  church-service  read  to  him,  by 
some  attentive  and  friendly  Divine.  The  Rev.  Mr. 
Hoole  performed  this  kind  office  in  my  presence  for 
the  last  time,  when,  by  his  own  desire,  no  more  than 
the  litany  was  read  ;  in   which  his  responses  were  m 


DR.    JOHNSON.  485 

the  deep  and  sonorous  voice  which  Mr.  Boswell  has  i784. 
occasionally  noticed,  and  with  the  most  profound  devo-  ^J|^ 
ti(»n   that  can    be   imagined.      His   hearing   not   being    75. 
quite  perfect,  he  more  than  once  interrupted  Mr.  Hoole, 
with,  '  Louder,  my  dear  Sir,  louder,  I  entreat  you,  or 
you  pray  in  vain  !' — and,  when  the  service  was  ended, 
he,  with  great  earnestness,  turned  round  to  an  excellent 
lady  who  was  present,  saying,  "  1  thank  you,  Madam, 
very  heartily,   for  your  kindness  in  joining  me  in  this 
solemn  exercise.     Live  well,   1   conjure  you  ;  and  you 
will  not  feel  the  compunction  at  the  last,  which  1  now 
feel."     So  truly  humble  were  the  thoughts  which  this 
great  and  good  man  entertained  of  his  own  approaches 
to  religious  perfection. 

"  He  was  earnestly  invited  to  publish  a  volume  of 
Devotional  Exercises ;  but  this,  (though  he  listened 
to  the  proposal  with  much  complacency,  and  a  large 
sum  of  money  was  offered  for  it,)  he  declined,  from 
motives  of  the  sincerest  modesty. 

"  He  seriously  entertained  the  thought  of  translating 
Thucmus.  He  often  talked  to  me  on  the  subject  ;  and 
once,  in  particular,  when  1  was  rather  wishing  that  he 
would  favour  the  world,  and  gratify  his  Sovereign,  by 
a  Life  of  Spencer,  (which  he  said  that  he  would  readily 
have  done,  had  he  been  able  to  obtain  any  new  mate- 
rials for  the  purpose,)  he  added,  "  I  have  been  thinking 
again.  Sir,  of  Thucmus  :  it  would  not  be  the  laborious 
task  which  you  have  supposed  it.  1  should  have  no 
trouble  but  that  of  dictation,  which  would  be  perform- 
ed as  speedily  as  an  amanuensis  could  write." 

It  is  to  the  mutual  credit  of  Johnson  and  Divines  of 
different  communions,  that  although  he  was  a  steady 
Church-of-England  man,  there  was,  nevertheless,  much 
agreeable  intercourse  between  him  and  them.  Let  me 
particularly  name  the  late  Mr.  La  Trobe,  and  Mr.  Hut- 
ton,  of  the  Moravian  profession.  His  intimacy  with 
the  English  Benedictines,  at  Paris,  lias  been  mentioned  ; 
and  as  an  additional  proof  of  the  charity  in  which  he 
lived  with  good  men  of  the  Romish  Church,  I  am  hap- 
py in  this  opportunity  of  recording  his  friendship  with 
the  Reverend  Thomas  Hussey,  D.  D.  His  Calholick 


486  THE    LIFE    OF 

1784.  Majesty's  Chaplain  of  Embassy  at  the  Court  of  London, 
^^  that  very  respectable  man,  eminent  not  only  for  his 
75.  '  powerful  eloquence  as  a  preacher,  but  for  his  various 
abilities  and  acquisitions. — Nay,  though  Johnson  loved 
a  Presbyterian  the  least  of  all,  this  did  not  prevent  his 
having  a  long  and  uninterrupted  social  connection  with 
the  Reverend  Dr.  James  Fordyce,  who,  since  his  death, 
hath  gratefully  celebrated  him  in  a  warm  strain  of  devo- 
tional composition. 

Amidst  the  melancholy  clouds  which  hung  over  the 
dying  Johnson,  his  characteristical  manner  shewed  itself 
on  different  occasions. 

When  Dr.  Warren,  in  the  usual  style,  hoped  that  he 
was  better  ;  his  answer  was,  "  No,  Sir ;  you  cannot  con- 
ceive with  what  acceleration  I  advance  towards  death." 

A  man  whom  he  had  never  seen  before  was  employed 
one  night  to  sit  up  with  him.  Being  asked  next  morn- 
ing how  he  liked  his  attendant,  his  answer  was,  "  Not 
at  all.  Sir  :  the  fellow's  an  ideot ;  he  is  as  aukward  as 
a  turn-spit  when  first  put  into  the  wheel,  and  as  sleepy 
as  a  dormouse." 

Mr.  Windham  having  placed  a  pillow  conveniently  to 
support  him,  he  thanked  him  for  his  kindness,  and  said, 
"  That  will  do, — all  that  a  pillow  can  do." 

He  repeated  with  great  spirit  a  poem,  consisting  of 
several  stanzas,  in  four  lines,  in  alternate  rhyme,  which 
he  said  he  had  composed  some  years  before,*  on  occa- 
sion of  a  rich,  extravagant  young  gentleman's  coming  of 
age  ;  saying  he  had  never  repeated  it  but  once  since  he 
composed  it,  and  had  given  but  one  copy  of  it.  That 
copy  was  given  to  Mrs.  Thrale,  now  Piozzi,  who  has 
published  it  in  a  Book  which  she  entitles  "  British  Sy- 
nonimy,"  but  which  is  truly  a  collection  of  entertain- 
ing remarks  and  stories,  no  matter  whether  accurate  or 
not.  Being  a  piece  of  exquisite  satire,  conveyed  in  a 
strain  of  pointed  vivacity  and  humour,  and  in  a  manner 

^  [In  1780.  See  his  Letter  to  Mrs.  Thrale,  dated  August  8,  1780  :  "You 
liave  heard  in  the  papers  how  ***  is  come  to  age  :  I  have  enclosed  a  short  song 
of  congratulation,  which  you  must  not  shew  to  any  body.—  It  is  odd  that  it  should 
come  into  any  body's  head.  I  hope  you  will  read  it  with  candour  ;  it  is,  I  believe, 
one  of  the  authour's  6rst  essays  in  that  way  of  writing,  and  a  beginner  is  always  to 
be  treated  with  tenderness."     M.] 


DR.   JOHNSON.  487 

of  which  no  other  instance  is  to  be  found  in  Johnson's  1784. 
writings,  1  shall  here  insert  it  :  ^^ 


Long-expected  one-and-tvventy, 

Ling'ring  year,  at  length  is  flown  ; 
Pride  and  pleasure,  pomp  and  plenty, 

Great  ***  ****,  are  now  your  own. 

Loosen'd  from  the  Minor's  tether. 

Free  to  mortgage  or  to  sell, 
Wild  as  wind,  and  light  as  feather, 

Bid  the  sons  of  thrift  farewell. 

Call  the  Betseys,  Kates,  and  Jennies, 

All  the  names  that  banish  care  ; 
Lavish  of  your  grandsire's  guineas, 

Shew  the  spirit  of  an  heir. 

All  that  prey  on  vice  and  folly 

Joy  to  see  their  quarry  fly  ; 
There  the  gamester,  light  and  jolly, 

There  the  lender,  grave  and  sly. 

Wealth,  my  lad,  was  made  to  wander. 

Let  it  wander  as  it  will  ; 
Call  the  jockey,  call  the  pander, 
Bid  them  come  and  take  their  fill. 

When  the  bonny  blade  carouses, 

Pockets  full,  and  spirits  high — 
What  are  acres  ?    what  are  houses  ? 

Only  dirt,  or  wet  or  dry. 

Should  the  guardian  friend  or  mother 

Tell  the  woes  of  wilful  waste  : 
Scorn  their  counsel,  scorn  their  pother, — 

You  can  hang  or  drown  at  last. 

As  he  opened  a  note  which  his  servant  brought  to 
him,  he  said,  "  An  odd  thought  strikes  me  : — we  shall 
receive  no  letters  in  the  grave." 

He  requested  three  things  of  Sir  Joshua  Reynolds : 
— To  forgive  him  thirty  pounds  which  he  had  borrowed 
of  him ; — to  read  the  Bible  ; — and  never   to   use  his 


7'). 


488  THE    LIFE    OF 

1784.  pencil  on  a  Sunday.      Sir  Joshua  readily  acquiesced. 

^(^  Indeed  he  shewed  the  greatest  anxiety  for  the  rehg;- 
75.  ious  improvement  of  his  friends,  to  whom  he  discoursed 
of  its  infinite  consequence.  He  begorpcl  of  Mr.  Hoole 
to  think  of  what  he  had  said,  and  to  commit  it  to  writ- 
ing;  and,  upon  being  afterwards  assured  that  this  was 
done,  pressed  his  hands,  and  in  an  earnest  tone  thanked 
him.  Dr.  Brockleshy  having  attended  him  with  the 
utmost  assiduity  and  kindness  as  his  physician  and 
friend,  he  was  pecuharly  desirous  that  this  gentleman 
should  not  entertain  any  loose  speculative  notions,  but 
be  confirmed  in  the  truths  of  Christianity,  and  insisted 
on  his  writing  down  in  his  presence,  as  nearly  as  he 
could  collect  it,  the  import  of  what  passed  on  the  sub- 
ject :  and  Dr.  Brocklesby  having  complied  with  the 
request,  he  made  him  sign  the  paper,  and  urged  him 
to  keep  it  in  his  own  custody  as  long  as  he  lived. 

Johnson,  with  that  native  fortitude,  which,  amidst 
all  his  bodily  distress  and  mental  sufferings,  never 
forsook  him,  asked  Dr.  Brocklesby,  as  a  man  in  whom 
he  had  confidence,  to  tell  him  plainly  whether  he 
could  recover.  "  Give  me  (said  he)  a  direct  answer." 
The  Doctor  having  first  asked  him  if  he  could  bear 
the  whole  truth,  which  way  soever  it  might  lead,  and 
being  answered  that  he  could,  declared  that,  in  his 
opinion,  he  could  not  recover  without  a  miracle. 
"  Then,  (said  Johnson,)  I  vvill  take  no  more  phxsick, 
not  even  my  opiates  ;  for  I  have  prayed  that  1  may 
render  up  my  soul  to  God  unclouded."  In  this  reso- 
lution he  persevered,  and,  at  the  same  time,  used  only 
the  weakest  kinds  of  sustenance.  Being  pressed  by 
Mr.  Windham  to  take  somewhat  more  generous  nour- 
ishment, lest  too  low  a  diet  should  have'the  very  eflfect 
which  he  dreaded,  by  debilitating  his  mind,  he  said, 
"  1  will  take  any  thing  but  inebriating  sustenance." 

The  Reverend  Mr.  Strahan,  who  was  the  son  of  his 
friend,  and  had  been  always  one  of  his  great  favourites, 
had,  during  his  last  illness,  the  satisfa^^tion  of  contrib- 
uting to  soothe  and  comfort  him.  That  gentleman's 
house,  at  Islington,  of  which  he  is  Vicar,  afforded 
Johnson,  occasionally  and  easily,  an  agreeable  change 


DR.    JOHNSON.  48$ 

of  place  and  fresh  air  ;  and  he  attended  also  upon  him  »784. 
in  town  in  the  discharge  of  the  sacred  offices  of  his  ^J^ 
profession.  75. 

Mr.  Strahan  has  given  me  the  agreeable  assurance, 
that,  after  being  in  much  agitation,  Johnson  became 
quite  composed,  and  continued  so  till  his  death. 

Dr.  Brockiesby,  who  will  not  be  suspected  of  fanati- 
cism, obliged  me  with  the  following  accounts  : 

"  For  some  time  before  his  death,  all  his  fears  were 
calmed  and  absorbed  by  the  prevalence  of  his  faith,  and 
his  trust  in  the  merits  and  propitiation  of  Jesus 
Christ. 

"  He  talked  often  to  me  about  the  necessity  of  faith 
in  the  sacrifice  of  Jesus,  as  necessary  beyond  all  good 
works  whatever,  for  the  salvation  of  mankind. 

"  He  pressed  me  to  study  Dr.  Clarke  and  to  read 
his  Sermons.  1  asked  him  why  he  pressed  Dr.  Clarke, 
an  Arian.^  '  Because,  (said  he,)  he  is  fullest  on  the 
propitiatorif  sacrifice" 

Johnson  having  thus  in  his  mind  the  true  Christian 
scheme,  at  once  rational  and  consolatory,  uniting  justice 
and  mercy  in  the  Divinity,  with  the  improvement  of 
human  nature,  previous  to  his  receiving  the  Holy 
Sacrament  in  his  apartment,  composed  and  fervently 
uttered  this  prayer  :* 

"  Almighty  and  most  merciful  Father,  I  am  now  as 
to  human  eyes  it  seems,  about  to  commemorate,  for 
the  last  time,  the  death  of  thy  Son  Jesus  Christ,  our 
Saviour  and  Redeemer.  Grant,  O  Lord,  that  my 
whole  hope  and  confidence  ma\'^  be  in  his  merits,  and 
thy  mercy  ;  enforce  and  accept  my  imperfect  repent- 

'  The  change  of  his  sentiments  with  regard  to  Dr.  Clarke,  is  thus  mentioned  to 
me  in  a  letter  from  the  late  Dr.  Adams,  Master  of  Pembroke  College,  Oxford.— 
"  The  Doctor's  prejudices  were  the  strongest,  and  certainly  in  another  sense  the 
weakest,  that  ever  possessed  a  sensible  man.  You  know  his  extreme  zeal  for  or- 
thodoxy. But  did  you  ever  hear  what  he  told  me  himself  ?  That  he  had  made 
it  a  rule  not  to  admit  Dr.  Clarke's  name  in  his  Dictionary.  This,  however,  wore 
off.  At  some  distance  of  time  he  advised  with  me  what  books  he  should  read  in 
defence  of  the  Christian  Religion.  I  recommened  '  Clarke's  Evidences  of  Natural 
and  Revealed  Religion,'  as  the  best  of  the  kind  ;  and  I  find  in  what  is  called  his 
'  Prayers  and  Meditations,'  that  he  was  frequently  employed  in  the  latter  part  of 
his  time  in  reading  Clarke's  Sermons." 

The  Reverend  Mr.  Strahan  took  care  to  have  it  preserved,  and  has  inserted  it 
in  "  Prayers  and  Meditations,"  p.  216. 

VOL,  III.  62 


490  THE    LIFE    OF 

1784.  ance  ;  make  this  commemoration  available  to  the  con- 
^^  firmation  of  my  faith,  the  establishment  of  my  hope, 
75. '  and  the  enlargement  of  my  charity  ;  and  make  the 
death  of  thy  Son  Jesus  Christ  effectual  to  my  re- 
demption. Have  mercy  upon  me,  and  pardon  the 
multitude  of  my  offences.  Bless  my  friends ;  have 
mercy  upon  all  men.  Support  me,  by  thy  Holy  Spirit, 
in  the  days  of  weakness,  and  at  the  hour  of  death  ;  and 
receive  me,  at  my  death,  to  everlasting  happiness,  for 
the  sake  of  Jesus  Christ.     Amen." 

Having,  as  has  been  already  mentioned,  made  his 
will  on  the  8th  and  9th  of  December,  and  settled  al! 
his  worldly  aflPairs,  he  languished  till  Monday,  the  13th 
of  that  month,  when  he  expired,  about  seven  o'clock  in 
the  evening,  with  so  little  apparent  pain  that  his  attend- 
ants hardly  perceived  when  his  dissolution  took  place. 

Of  his  last  moments,  my  brother,  Thomas  David, 
has  furnished  me  with  the  following  particulars  : 

"  The  Doctor,  from  the  time  that  he  was  certain  his 
death  was  near,  appeared  to  be  perfectly  resigned,  was 
seldom  or  never  fretful  or  out  of  temper,  and  often  said 
to  his  faithful  servant,  who  gave  me  this  account, 
'  Attend,  Francis,  to  the  salvation  of  your  soul,  which 
is  the  object  of  greatest  importance  :'  he  also  explain- 
ed to  him  passages  in  the  scripture,  and  seemed  to 
have  pleasure  in  talking  upon  religious  subjects. 

"On  Monday,  the  13th  of  December,  the  day  on 
which  he  died,  a  Miss  Morris,  daughter  to  a  particular 
friend  of  his,  called,  and  said  to  Francis,  that  she  beg- 
ged to  be  permitted  to  see  the  Doctor,  that  she  might 
earnestly  request  him  to  give  her  his  blessing.  Francis 
went  into  his  room,  followed  by  the  young  lady,  and 
delivered  the  message.  The  Doctor  turned  himself  in 
the  bed,  and  said,  '  God  bless  you,  my  dear  !'  These 
were  the  last  words  he  spoke. — His  difficulty  of  breath- 
ing increased  till  about  seven  o'clock  in  the  evening, 
when  Mr.  Barber  and  Mrs.  Desmoulins,  who  were 
sitting  in  the  room,  observing  that  the  noise  he  made 
in  breathing  had  ceased,  went  to  the  bed,  and  found 
he  was  dead." 


DR.   JOHNSON.  49i 

About  two  days  after  his  death,  the  following  very  1784. 
agreeable  account  was  communicated  to  Mr.  Malone,  ^^, 
in  a  letter  by  the  Honourable  John  Byng,  to  whom  1    75. 
am  much  obliged  for  granting  me  permission  to  intro- 
duce it  in  my  work. 

"  DEAR  SIR, 

"  Since  I  saw  you,  I  have  had  a  long  conversa- 
tion with  Cawston,^  who  sat  up  with  Dr.  Johnson, 
from  nine  o'clock  on  Sunday  evening,  till  ten  o'clock 
on  Monday  morning.  And,  from  what  I  can  gather 
from  him,  it  should  seem,  that  Dr.  Johnson  was  per- 
fectly composed,  steady  in  hope,  and  resigned  to 
death.  At  the  interval  of  each  hour,  they  assisted 
him  to  sit  up  in  his  bed,  and  move  his  legs,  which 
were  in  much  pain  ;  when  he  regularly  addressed  him- 
self to  fervent  prayer  ;  and  though,  sometimes,  his 
voice  failed  him,  his  sense  never  did,  during  that  time. 
The  only  sustenance  he  received,  was  cyder  and  water- 
He  said  his  mind  was  prepared,  and  the  time  to  his 
dissolution  seemed  long.  At  six  in  the  morning,  he 
enquired  the  hour,  and,  on  being  informed,  said  that 
all  went  on  regularly,  and  he  felt  he  had  but  a  few 
hours  to  live. 

*'  At  ten  o'clock  in  the  morning,  he  parted  from 
Cawston,  saying,  '  You  should  not  detain  Mr.  Wind- 
ham's servant  : — I  thank  you  ;  bear  my  remembrance 
to  your  master.'  Cawston  says,  that  no  man  could 
appear  more  collected,  more  devout,  or  less  terrified 
at  the  thoughts  of  the  approaching  minute. 

"  This  account,  which  is  so  much  more  agreeable 
than,  and  somewhat  different  from,  yours,  has  given  us 
the  satisfaction  of  thinking  that  that  great  man  died  as 
he  lived,  full  of  resignation,  strengthened  in  faith,  and 
joyful  in  hope." 

A  few  davs  before  his  death,  he  had  asked  Sir  John 
Hawkins,  as  one  of  his  executors,  where  he  should  be 
buried  ;  and  on  being  answered,  "  Doubtless,  in  West- 
minster-Abbey," seemed   to  feel   a  satisfaction,   very 

i  Servant  to  the  Right  HoDOurable  William  Windham. 


492  THE    LIFE    OF 

1784.  natural  to  a  Poet  ;  and  indeed  in  my  opinion  very 
^"^  natural  to  every  n^an  of  any  imagination,  who  has  no 
75.  family  sepulchre  in  which  he  can  be  laid  with  his 
fathers.  Accordingly,  upon  Monday,  December  20, 
his  remains  were  deposited  in  that  noble  and  renowned 
edifice  ;  and  over  his  grave  was  placed  a  large  blue 
flag-stone,  with  this  inscription  : 

"  Samuel  Johnson,  LL.  D. 

"  Obiit  XIII  die  Decembris^ 

"  Anno  Domini 

"  M.   DCC.  LXXXIV. 

"  JEtatis  suce  lxxv." 

His  funeral  was  attended  by  a  respectable  number  of 
his  friends,  particularly  such  of  the  members  of  The 
Literary  Club  as  were  then  in  town  ;  and  was  also 
honoured  with  the  presence  of  several  of  the  Reverend 
Chapter  of  Westminster.  Mr.  Burke,  Sir  Joseph  Banks, 
^Ir.  Windham,  Mr.  Langton,  Sir  Charles  Bunbury,  and 
Mr.  Colman,  bore  his  pall.  His  school-fellow,  Dr.  Tay- 
lor, performed  the  mournful  office  of  reading  the  burial 
service. 

I  trust,  I  shall  not  be  accused  of  affectation,  when  I 
declare,  that  I  find  myself  unable  to  express  all  that  I 
felt  upon  the  loss  of  such  a  "  Guide,  Philosopher,  and 
Friend."^  I  shall,  therefore,  not  say  one  Avord  of  my 
own,  but  adopt  thoi:e  of  an  eminent  friend,^  which  he 

"  On  the  subject  of  Johnson  I  may  adopt  the  words  of  Sir  John  Harrington, 
concerning  his  venerable  Tutor  and  Diocesan,  Dr.  John  Still,  Bishop  of  Bath  and 
Wells  ;  "  who  hath  given  me  some  helps,  more  hopes,  all  encouragements  in 
my  best  studies  :  to  whom  I  never  came  but  I  grew  more  religious  ;  from  whom 
I  never  went,  but  I  parted  better  instructed.  Of  him  therefore,  my  acquaintance, 
my  friend,  my  instructor,  if  I  speak  much,  it  were  not  to  be  marvelled  ;  if  I  speak 
frankly,  it  is  not  to  be  blamed  ;  and  though  I  speak  partially,  it  were  to  be  par- 
doned." Nuga  Antiijute,  Vol.  I.  p.  136.  There  is  one  circumstance  in  Sir  John's 
character  of  Bishop  Still,  which  is  peculiarly  applicable  to  Johnson  ;  "  He  became 
so  famous  a  disputer,  tliat  tlie  learnedest  were  even  afraid  to  dispute  with  him  : 
and  he  finding  his  own  strength,  could  not  stick  to  warn  them  in  their  arguments 
to  take  heed  to  their  answers,  hke  a  i)erfect  fencer  that  will  tell  aforehand  in  which 
button  he  will  give  the  venew,  or  hke  a  cunning  chess-player  that  will  appoint 
aforehand  with  which  pawn  and  in  what  place  he  will  give  the  mate."     Jbid. 

[The  late  Right  Hon.  William  Gerard  Hamilton,  who  had  been  intimately 
acquainted  with  Dr.  Johnson  near  thirty  years.  He  died  in  London,  July  16, 
1796,  in  his  69th  or  70tb  year.     M.] 


DR.   JOHNSON.  493 

Uttered  with  an  abrupt  felicity,  superiour  to  all  studied  *784. 
compositions  : — "  He  has   made  a  chasm,   which   not  ^'^ 
only  nothing  can   fill  up,  but  which  nothing  has  a  ten-    75. ' 
dency  to  fill  up. — Johnson  is  dead. — Let  us  go  to  the 
next  best : — there  is  nobody  ;  no  man  can  be  said  to 
put  you  in  mind  of  Johnson." 

As  Johnson  had  abundant  homage  paid  to  him  dur- 
ing his  life,^  so  no  writer  in  this  nation  ever  had  such 

8  Beside  the  Dedications  to  him  by  Dr.  Goldsmith,  the  Reverend  Dr.  Franklin, 
and  the  Reverend  Mr.  Wilson,  which  I  have  mentioned  according  to  their  dates, 
there  was  one  by  a  lady,  of  a  versification  of  "  Aningait  and  Ajut,"  and  one  by  the 
ingenious  Mr.  Walker,  of  his  "  Rhetorical  Grammar."  I  have  introduced  into  this 
work  several  compliments  paid  to  him  in  the  writings  of  his  contemporaries  ;  but 
the  number  of  them  is  so  great ,  that  we  may  fairly  say  that  there  was  almost  a 
general  tribute. 

Let  me  not  be  forgetful  of  the  honour  done  to  him  by  Colonel  Myddleton,  of 
Gwaynynog,  near  Denbigh  ;  who,  on  the  banks  of  a  rivulet  in  his  park,  where 
Johnson  delighted  to  stand  and  repeat  verses,  erected  an  urn  with  the  following 
Inscription  : 

"  This  spot  was  often  dignified  by  the  presence  of 

"  Samuel  Johnson,  JLX.  D. 

"  Whose  moral  writings,  exactly  conformable   to  the  precepts  of  Christianity, 

"  Gave  ardour  to  Virtue  and  confidence  to  Truth." 

As  no  inconsiderable  circumstance  of  his  fame,  we  must  reckon  the  extraordina- 
ry zeal  of  the  artists  to  extend  and  perpetuate  his  image.  I  can  enumerate  a  bust 
by  Mr.  Nollekens,  and  the  many  casts  which  are  made  from  it  ;  several  pictures 
by  Sir  Joshua  Reynolds,  from  one  of  which,  in  the  possession  of  the  Duke  of  Dorset, 
Mr.  Humphrey  executed  a  beautiful  miniature  in  enamel  ;  one  by  Mrs.  Frances 
Reynolds,  Sir  Joshua's  sister  :  one  by  Mr.  ZofFanij  ;  and  one  by  Mr.  Opie  ;  and 
the  following  engravings  of  his  portrait  :  1 .  One  by  Cooke,  from  Sir  Joshua,  for 
the  Proprietors'  edition  of  his  folio  Dictionary.—  2.  One  from  ditto,  by  ditto,  for 
their  quarto  edition. — 3.  One  from  Opie,  by  Heath,  for  Harrison's  edition  of  his 
Dictionary. — 4.  One  from  Nollekens'  bust  of  him,  by  Bartolozzi,  for  Fielding's 
quarto  edition  of  his  Dictionary. — 5.  One  small,  from  Harding,  by  Trotter,  for 
his  "  Beauties." — 6.  One  small,  from  Sir  Joshua,  by  Trotter,  for  his  "  Lives  of  the 
Poets."—  7.  One  small,  from  Sir  Joshua,  by  Hall,  for  "  The  Rambler." — 8.  One 
small,  from  an  original  drawing,  in  the  possession  of  Mr.  John  Simco,  etched  by 
Trotter,  for  another  edition  of  his  "  Lives  of  the  Poets." — 9.  One  small,  no  painter's 
name,  etched  by  Taylor,  for  his  Johnsoniana.  -  10.  One  folio  whole-length,  with 
his  oak-stick,  as  described  in  Boswell's  "  Tour,"  drawn  and  etched  by  Trotter. — 
1 L  One  large  mezzotinto,  from  Sir  Joshua,  by  Doughty. — 1 2.  One  large  Roman 
head,  from  Sir  Joshua,  by  Marchi.—  13.  One  octavo,  holding  a  book  to  his  eye, 
from  Sir  Joshua,  by  Hall,  for  his  works. — 14.  One  small,  from  a  drawing  from 
the  life,  and  engraved  by  Trotter,  for  his  Life  published  by  Kearsley. — 15.  One 
large,  from  Opie,  by  Mr.  Townley,  (brother  of  Mr.  Townley,  of  the  Commons) 
an  ingenious  artist,  who  resided  some  time  at  Berlin,  and  has  the  honour  of  being 
engraver  to  his  Majesty  the  King  of  Prussia.  This  is  one  of  the  finest  mezzotintos 
that  ever  was  executed  ;  and  what  renders  it  of  extraordinary  value,  the  plate 
was  destroyed  after  four  or  five  impressions  only  were  taken  off.  One  of  them 
is  in  the  possession  of  Sir  William  Scott.  Mr.  Townley  has  lately  been  prevailed 
with  to  execute  and  publish  another  of  the  same,  that  it  may  be  more  generally 
circulated  among  the  admirers  of  Dr.  Johnson. — 1 6.  One  large,  from  Sir  Joshua's 
first  picture  of  him,  by  Heath,  for  this  work,  in  quarto. — 17.  One  octavo,  by 
Baker,  for  the  ectavo  editiflo.-»18.     And  one  for  «  Lavater's  Essays  on  Physiog- 


494r  THE    LIFE    OF 

1784.  an  accumulation  of  literary  honours  after  his  death.  A 
2^  sermon  upon  that  event  was  preached  in  St.  Mary's 
75.  church,  Oxford,  before  the  University,  by  the  Reverend 
Mr.  Agutter,  of  Magdalen  College. »  The  Lives,  the 
Memoirs,  the  Essays,  both  in  prose  and  verse,  which 
have  been  published  concerning  him,  would  make  many 
volumes.  The  numerous  attacks  too  upon  him,  1  con- 
sider as  part  of  his  consequence,  upon  the  principle 
which  he  himself  so  well  knew  and  asserted.  Many 
who  trembled  at  his  presence,  were  forward  in  assault, 
when  they  no  longer  apprehended  danger.  When  one 
of  his  little  pragmatical  foes  was  invidiously  snarling  at 
his  fame,  at  Sir  Joshua  Reynolds's  table,  the  Reverend 
Dr.  Parr  exclaimed,  with  his  usual  bold  animation, 
"  Ay,  now  that  the  old  lion  is  dead,  every  ass  thinks 
he  may  kick  at  him." 

A  monument  for  him,  in  Westminster- Abbey,  was 
resolved  upon  soon  after  his  death,  and  was  supported 
by  a  most  respectable  contribution  ;  but  the  Dean  and 
Chapter  of  St.  Paul's  having  come  to  a  resolution  of 
admitting  monuments  there,  upon  a  liberal  and  magnifi- 
cent plan,  that  Cathedral  was  afterwards  fixed  on,  as 
the  place  in  which  a  cenotaph  should  be  erected  to  his 
memory  :  and  in  the  cathedral  of  his  native  city  of  Lich- 
field, a  smaller  one  is  to  be  erected.'     To  compose  his 

nomy,"  in  which  Johnson's  countenance  is  analysed  upon  the  principles  of  that 
fanciful  writer. — There  are  also  several  seals  with  his  head  cut  on  them,  particu- 
larly a  very  fine  one  by  that  eminent  artist,  Edward  Burch,  Esq.  R.  A.  in  the  pos- 
session of  the  younger  Dr.  Charles  Bumey. 

Let  me  add,  as  a  proof  of  the  popularity  of  his  character,  that  there  are  cop- 
per pieces  struck  at  Birmingham,  with  his  head  impressed  on  them,  which  pass 
current  as  half-pence  there,  and  in  the  neighbouring  parts  of  the  country. 

'  It  is  not  yet  published. — In  a  letter  to  me,  Mr.  Agutter  says,  "  My  sermon 
before  the  University  was  more  engaged  with  Dr.  Johnson's  moral  than  his  intel- 
lectual character.  It  particularly  examined  his  fear  of  death,  and  suggested  sev- 
eral reasons  for  the  apprehensions  of  the  good,  and  the  indifference  of  the  infidel  in 
their  last  hours  ;  this  was  illustrated  by  contrasting  the  death  of  Dr.  Johnson  and 
Mr.  Hume  :  the  text  was  Job  xxi.  22 — 26." 

'  [This  monument  has  been  since  erected.  It  consists  of  a  Medallion,  with  a 
tablet  beneath,  on  which  is  this  inscription  : 

"  The  friends  of  Samuel  Johnson,  LL.  D. 

"  A  Native  of  Lichfield, 

"  Erected  this  Monument, 

"  As  a  tribute  of  respect 

"  To  the  Memory  of  a  man  of  extensive  learning, 

■'  A  distinguished  moral  writer,  and  a  sincere  Christian, 

"  He  died  Dec  13,  1784,  aged  75.     M.] 


DR.   JOHNSON.  495 

epitaph,  could  not  but  excite  the  warmest  competition  ^84. 
of  genius."^      If  laudari  a  laudato  viro  be  praise  which  ^^ 
is  highly  estimable,  I  should  not  forgive  myself  were  I   75.  ' 
to  omit  the  following  sepulchral  verses  on  the  authour 
of  The  English  Dictionary,  written  by  the  Right 
Honourable  Henry  Flood  :^ 

^  The  Reverend  Dr.  Parr,  on  being  requested  to  undertake  it,  thus  expressed 
himself  in  a  letter  to  William  Seward,  Esq. 

"  I  leave  this  mighty  task  to  some  hardier  and  some  abler  writer.  The  variety 
and  splendour  of  Johnson's  attainments,  the  peculiarities  of  his  character,  his  pri- 
vate virtues,  and  his  literary  publications,  fill  me  with  confusion  and  dismay, 
when  I  reflect  upon  the  confined  and  diflScult  species  of  composition,  in  which 
alone  they  can  be  expressed,  with  propriety,  upon  his  monument." 

But  I  understand  that  this  great  scholar,  and  warm  admirer  of  Johnson,  has 
yielded  to  repeated  solicitations,  and  executed  the  very  difficult  undertaking. 

[Dr.  Johnson's  Monument,  consisting  of  a  Colossal  Figure  leaning  against  a 
column,  (but  not  very  strongly  resembling  him,)  has  since  the  death  of  our  au- 
thour been  placed  in  St.  Paul's  Cathedral,  having  been  first  opened  to  publick 
view,  Feb.  23,  1796.  The  Epitaph  was  written  by  the  Rev.  Dr.  Parr,  and  is  as 
follows : 

A   gg    XI 

SAMVELI  •  lOHNSON 

GRAMMATICO  •  ET  •  CRITICO 

SCRIPTORVM  •  ANGLICORVM  •  LITTERATE  •  PERITO 

POETAE  •  LVMINIBVS  •  SENTENTIARVM 

ET  •  PONDERIBVS  •  VERBORVM  •  ADMIRABILI 

MAGISTRO  •  VIRTVTIS  •  GRAVISSIMO 

HOMINI  •  OPTIMO  •  ET  •  SINGVLARIS  •  EXEMPLI 

QVI  •  VIXIT  •  ANN  •  txxv  •  MENS  •  il.  •  DIEB  •  xiiil 

DECESSIT  •  IDIB  ■  DECEMBR  •  ANN  •  CHRIST  •  da  •  Idcc  •  lxxxiiiI 

SEPVLT  •  IN  •  AED  •  SANCT  •  PETR  •  WESTMONASTERIENS. 

xiil  •  KAL  •  lANVAR  •  ANN  •  CHRIST  •  cId  •  locc  •  lxxxv 

AMICI  •  ET  •  SODALES  •  LITTERARII 
PECVNIA  •  CONLATA 
H  •  M  •  FACIVND  •  CV RAVER. 

On  a  scroll  in  his  hand  are  the  following  words  : 

ENMAKAPESSinONnNANTASIOSEIHAIklOIBH 

On  one  side  of  the  monument — 

Faciebat  Johannes  Bacon  Scvlpeor  Ann.  Christ,  m.dcc.i.xxxxv. 

The  Subscription  for  this  monument,  which  cost  eleven  hundred  guineas,  was 
begun  by  the  Literary  Club,  and  completed  by  the  aid  of  Dr.  Johnson's  other 
friends  and  admirers.     M.] 

^  To  prevent  any  misconception  on  this  subject,  Mr.  Malone,  by  whom  these 
lines  were  obligingly  communicated,  requests  me  to  add  the  following  remark  : 

"  In  justice  to  the  late  Mr.  Flood,  now  himself  wanting,  and  highly  meriting, 
an  epitaph  from  his  country,  to  which  his  transcendent  talents  did  the  highest  hon- 
our, as  well  as  the  most  important  service  ;  it  should  be  observed,  that  these  Unes 
were  by  no  means  intended  as  a  regular  monumental  inscription  for  Dr.  Johnson. 
Had  he  undertaken  to  write  an  appropriated  and  discriminative  epitaph  for  that 
excellent  and  extraordinary  man,  those  who  knew  Mr.  Flood's  vigour  of  mind,  will 


496  THE    LIFE    OP 

1784.       "  No  need  of  Latin  or  of  Greek  to  grace 

"  Our  Johnson's   memory,  or  inscribe  his  grave  ,- 
"  His  native  language  claims  this  mournful  space, 
"  To  pay  the  immortality  he  gave." 

The  character  of  Samuel  Johnson  has,  I  trust, 
been  so  developed  in  the  course  of  this  work,  that 
they  who  have  honoured  it  with  a  perusal,  may  be 
considered  as  well  acquainted  with  him.  As,  however, 
it  may  be  expected  that  1  should  collect  into  one  view 
the  capital  and  distinguishing  features  of  this  extraor- 
dinary man,  I  shall  endeavour  to  acquit  myself  of  that 
part  of  my  biographical  undertaking,*  however  ditficult 
it  may  be  to  do  that  vvhich  many  of  my  readers  will  do 
better  for  themselves. 

His  figure  was  large  and  well  formed,  and  his  coun- 
tenance of  the  cast  of  an  ancient  statue  ;  yet  his 
appearance  was  rendered  strange  and  somewhat  un- 
couth, by  convulsive  cramps,  by  the  scars  of  that  dis- 
temper which  it  was  once  imagined  the  royal  touch 
could  cure,  and  by  a  slovenly  mode  of  dress.  He  had 
the  use  only  of  one  eye  ;  yet  so  much  does  mind  govern 
and  even  supply  the  deficiency  of  organs,  that  his  visual 
perceptions,  as  far  as  they  extended,  were  uncommonly 
quick  and  accurate.  So  morbid  was  his  temperament, 
that  he  never  knew  the  natural  joy  of  a  free  and  vigor- 
ous use  of  his  limbs  :  when  he  walked,  it  was  like  the 
struggling  gait  of  one  in  fetters  ;  when  he  rode,  he  had 
no  command  or  direction  of  his  l^orse,  but  was  carried 
as  if  in  a  balloon.  That  with  his  constitution  and 
habits  of  life  he  should   have  lived  seventy-five  years, 

liave  no  doubt  that  he  would  have  produced  one  worthy  of  his  illustrious  subject. 
But  the  fact  was  merely  this  :  In  Dec.  1789,  after  a  large  subscription  had  been 
made  for  Dr.  Johnson's  monument,  to  which  Mr.  Flood  liberally  contributed,  Mr. 
Malone  happened  to  call  on  him  at  his  house,  in  Berners-street,  and  the  conver- 
sation turning  on  the  proposed  monument,  Mr.  Malone  maintained  that  the  epi- 
taph, by  whomsoever  it  should  be  written,  ought  to  be  in  Latin.  Mr.  Flood 
thought  differently.  The  next  morning,  in  the  postscript  to  a  note  on  another 
subject,  he  mentioned  that  he  continued  of  the  same  opinion  as  on  the  preceding 
day,  and  subjoined  the  lines  above  given." 

^  As  I  do  not  see  any  reason  to  give  a  different  character  of  my  illustrious 
friend  now,  from  what  I  formerly  gave,  the  greatest  part  of  the  sketch  of  him  in 
my  "  Journal  of  a  Tour  to  the  Hebrides,"  is  here  adopted. 


DR.    JOHNSON.  .  497 

is  a  proof  that  an  inherent  vivida  vis  is  a  powerful  pre-  1784. 
servative  of  the  human  frame.  ^v^ 

Man  IS,  in  general,  made  up  ot  contradictory  qual-  75, 
ities  ;  and  these  will  ever  shew  themselves  in  strange 
succession,  where  a  consistency  in  appearance  at  least, 
if  not  reality,  has  not  been  attained  by  long  habits  of 
philosophical  discipline.  In  proportion  to  the  native 
vigour  of  the  mind,  the  contradictory  qualities  will  be 
the  more  prominent,  and  more  difficult  to  be  adjusted  ; 
and,  therefore,  we  are  not  to  wonder,  that  Johnson 
exhibited  an  eminent  example  of  this  remark  which  I 
have  made  upon  human  nature.  At  different  times, 
he  seemed  a  different  man,  in  some  respects  ;  not,  how- 
ever, in  any  great  or  essential  article,  upon  which  he 
had  fully  employed  his  mind,  and  settled  certain  prin- 
ciples of  duty,  but  only  in  his  manners,  and  in  the 
display  of  argument  and  fancy  in  his  talk.  He  was 
prone  to  superstition,  but  not  to  credulity.  Though 
his  imagination  might  incline  him  to  a  belief  of  the 
marvellous  and  the  mysteri(^us,  his  vigorous  reason 
examined  the  evidence  with  jealousy.  He  was  a  sin- 
cere and  zealous  Christian,  of  high  Church-of-England 
and  monarchical  principles,  which  he  would  not  tamely 
suffer  to  be  questioned  ;  and  had,  perhaps,  at  an  early 
period,  narrowed  his  mind  somewhat  too  much,  both 
as  to  religion  and  politicks.  His  being  impressed  with 
the  danger  of  extreme  latitude  in  either,  though  he  was 
of  a  very  independent  spirit,  occasioned  his  appearing 
somewhat  unfavourable  to  the  prevalence  of  that  noble 
freedom  of  sentimrnt  which  is  the  best  possession  of 
man.  Nor  can  it  be  denied,  that  he  had  many  preju- 
dices ;  which,  however,  frequently  suggested  many  of 
his  pointed  sayings,  that  rather  shew  a  playfulness  of 
fancy  than  any  settled  malignity.  He  was  steady  and 
inflexible  in  maintaining  the  obligations  of  religion  and 
morality  ;  both  from  a  regard  for  the  order  of  society, 
and  from  a  veneration  for  the  Great  Source  of  all 
order  ;  correct,  nay  stern  in  his  taste  ;  hard  to  please, 
and  easily  offended  ;  impetuous  and  irritable  in  his 
temper,  but  of  a  most  humane  and  benevolent  heart,^ 

>  In  the  Olla  Podrida,  a  collection  of  Essays  published  at  Oxford,  there  is  an  adr 
VOJ,.  III.  63 


498  IHE    LIFE    Ot 

J 784.  which  shewed  itself  not  only  in  a  most  liberal  charity, 
^J^  as  far  as  his  circumstances  would  allow,  but  in  a  thou- 
75.    sand  instances  of  active  benevolence.    He  was  afflicted 
with  a  bodily   disease,   which    made  him  often  restless 
and  fretful  ;  and  with  a  constitutional  melancholy,  the 
clouds  of  which  darkened  the  brightness  of  his  fancy, 
and  gave  a  gloomy  cast  to  his  whole  course  of  think- 
ing:  we,  therefore,   ought   not  to  wonder  at  his  sallies 
of  impatience   and   passion   at  any    time   ;    especially 
when   provoked  by  obtrusive  ignorance,   or  presuming 
petulance  ;  and  allowance  must  be  made  for  his  utter- 
ing hasty  and  satirical   sallies   even    against   his   best 
friends.      And,    surely,   when    it   is  considered,   that, 
*'  amidst  sickness  and  sorrow,'*  he  exerted  his  faculties 
in  so  many  works  for  the  benefit  of  mankind,  and  par- 
ticularly   that     he    achieved    the   great   and    admirable 
Dictionary  of  our  language,   we  must  be  astonished 
at  his  resolution.     The  solemn  text,  "of  him  to  whom 
much  is  given,   much  will  be  required,"  seems  to  have 
been  ever  present  to  his  mind,  in  a  rigorous  sense,  and 
to  have  made  him  dissatisfied  with  his  labours  and  acts 
of  goodness,  however  comparatively  great  ;  so  that  the 
unavoidable  consciousness  of   his   superiority   was,   in 
that  respect,  a  cause  of  disquiet.      He  suffered  so  much 
from    this,    and    from    the    gloom    which    perpetually 
haunted  him,  and   made  solitude  frightful,  that  it  may 
be  said  of  him,  "  If  in   this  life  only  he   had  hope,  he 
was  of  all   men   most   miserable."       He   loved    praise, 
when   it   was  brought  to   him  ;  but  was   too  proud  to 
seek  for  it.     He  was  somewhat  susceptible  of  flattery. 
As   he   was  general   and  unconfined  in  his  studies,  he 
cannot  be  considered  as  master  of  any  one   particular 
science  ;  but   he   had   accumulated  a  vast   and  various 
collection   of  learning  and   knowledge,   which   was  so 
arranged  in   his   mind,  as  to  be  ever  in  readiness  to  be 
brought  forth.     But   his  superiority  over  other  learned 
men  consisted  chiefly  in  what  may  be  called  the  art  of 

piirable  paper  upon  the  character  of  Johnson,  written  by  the  Reverend  Dr.  Home, 
the  last  excellent  Bishop  of  Norwich.  The  following  passage  is  eminently  happy  : 
— "•  To  reject  wi^,dom,  because  the  person  of  him  who  communicates  it  is  uncouth, 
and  his  manners  are  inelegant  ; — what  is  it,  but  to  throw  away  a  pine-apple,  and 
aesign  for  a  reason  the  roughness  of  its  coat  .•' 


DR.    JOHNSON.  499 

thinking,  the  art  of  using  his  mind  ;  a  certain  continual  1784. 
power  of"  seizing  the  useful  substance  of  all  that  he  ^^ 
knew,  and  exhibiting  it  in  a  clear  and  forcible  manner  ;  75. 
so  that  knowledge,  which  we  often  see  to  be  no  better 
than  lumber  in  men  of  dull  understanding,  was,  in  him, 
true,  evident,  and  actual  wisdom.  His  moral  precepts 
are  practical  ;  for  they  are  drawn  from  an  intimate  ac- 
quaintance with  human  nature.  His  maxims  carry 
conviction  ;  for  they  are  founded  on  the  basis  (jf  com- 
mon sense,  and  a  very  attentive  and  minute  survey  of 
real  life.  His  mind  was  so  full  of  imagery,  that  he 
might  have  been  perpetually  a  poet ;  yet  it  is  remark- 
able, that,  however  rich  his  prose  is  in  this  respect,  his 
poetical  pieces,  in  general,  have  not  much  of  that  splen- 
dour, but  are  rather  distinguished  by  strong  sentiment, 
and  acute  observation,  conveyed  in  harmonious  and 
energetick  verse,  particularly  in  heroick  couplets. 
Though  usually  grave,  and  even  aweful  in  his  deport- 
ment, he  possessed  uncommon  and  peculiar  powers  of 
wit  and  humour  ;  he  frequently  indulged  himself  in 
colloquial  pleasantry  ;  and  the  heartiest  merriment  was 
often  enjoyed  in  his  company ;  with  this  great  advan- 
tage, that  it  was  entirely  free  from  any  poisonous  tinc- 
ture of  vice  or  impiety,  it  was  salutary  to  those  who 
shared  in  it.  He  had  accustomed  himself  to  such  ac- 
curacy in   his  common  conversation,-    that  he  at  all 

"  Though  a  perfect  resemblance  of  Johnson  is  not  to  be  found  in  any  age,  parts 
of  his  character  are  admirably  expressed  by  Clarendon,  in  dra-wing  that  of  Lord 
Falkland,  whom  the  noble  and  masterly  historian  describes  at  his  seat  near  Ox- 
ford : — "  Such  an  immenseness  of  wt,  such  a  sohdity  of  judgement,  so  infinite  a 
fancy,  bound  in  by  a  most  logical  ratiocination.—  His  acquaintance  was  cultivated 
by  the  most  polite  and  accurate  men,  so  that  his  house  was  an  University  in  less 
volume,  whither  they  came,  not  so  much  for  repose  as  study,  and  to  examine  and 
refine  those  grosser  propositions,  wliich  laziness  and  consent  made  current  in  con- 
versation." 

Bayle's  account  of  Menage  may  also  be  quoted  as  exceedingly  applicable  to  the 
great  subject  of  this  work. — "  His  illustrious  friends  erected  a  very  glorious  mon- 
ument to  him  in  the  collection  entitled  Menagiana.  Those  who  judge  of  things 
aright,  will  confess  that  this  collection  is  very  proper  to  shew  the  extent  of 
genius  and  learning  which  was  the  character  of  Menage.  And  I  may  be  bold  to 
say,  that  the  excellent  ivorks  be  published  luill  not  distinvuish  him  from  other  learned  tnen 
io  advantageously  as  this.  To  publish  books  of  great  learning,  to  make  Greek  and 
Latin  verses  exceedingly  well  turned,  is  not  a  common  talent,  I  own  ;  neither  is 
it  extremely  rare.  It  is  incomparably  more  difficult  to  find  men  who  can  furnish 
discourse  about  an  infinite  number  of  things,  and  who  can  diversify  them  an 
hundred  ways.  How  many  authours  are  there,  who  are  admired  for  their  works, 
on  account  of  the  vast  learning  that  is  displayed  in   them,  who  are  jjot  able  to 


oOO  THE    LIFE    OF    DR.   JOHNSON. 

1784.  times  expressed  his  thoughts  with  great  force,  and  an 
^j^  elegant  choice  of  language,  the  effect  of  which  was 
75.  aided  by  his  having  a  loud  voice,  and  a  slow  deliberate 
utterance.  In  him  were  united  a  most  logical  head 
with  a  most  fertile  imagination,  which  gave  him  an 
extraordinary  advantage  in  arguing  :  for  he  could  rea- 
son close  or  wide,  as  he  saw  best  for  the  moment. 
Exulting  in  his  intellectual  strength  and  dexterity,  he 
could,  when  he  pleased,  be  the  greatest  sophist  that 
ever  contended  in  the  lists  of  declamation  ;  and,  from 
a  spirit  of  contradiction,  and  a  delight  in  shewing  his 
powers,  he  wotdd  often  maintain  the  wrong  side  with 
equal  warmth  and  ingenuity  ;  so  that,  when  there  was 
an  audience,  his  real  opinions  could  seldom  be  gathered 
from  his  talk  ;  though  when  he  was  in  company  with 
a  single  friend,  he  would  discuss  a  subject  with  genuine 
fairness  ;  but  he  was  too  conscientious  to  make  errour 
permanent  and  pernirious,  by  deliberately  writing  it  ; 
and,  in  all  his  numerous  works,  he  earnestly  inculcated 
what  appeared  to  him  to  be  the  truth  ;  his  piety  being 
constant,  and  the  ruling  principle  of  all  his  conduct. 

Such  was  Samuel  Johnson,  a  man  whose  talents, 
acquirements,  and  virtues,  were  so  extraordinary,  that 
the  more  his  character  is  considered,  the  more  he  will 
be  regarded  by  the  present  age,  and  by  posterity,  with 
admiration  and  reverence. 

sustain  a  conversation.  Those  who  know  Menage  only  by  his  books,  might 
think  he  resembled  those  learned  men  :  but  if  you  shew  the  Menagiana,  you 
distinguish  him  from  them,  and  make  him  known  by  a  talent  which  is  gfivea 
to  very  few  learned  men.  There  it  appears  that  he  was  a  man  who  spoke  off- 
hand a  thousand  good  things.  His  memory  extended  to  what  was  ancient  and 
modern  ;  to  the  court  and  to  the  city  ;  to  the  dead  and  to  the  living  languages  ; 
to  things  serious  and  things  jocose  ;  in  a  word,  to  a  thousand  sorts  of  subjects. 
That  which  appeared  a  trifle  to  some  readers  of  the  Mena^riana,  who  did  not  con- 
sider circumstances,  caused  admiration  in  other  readers,  who  minded  the  difTer- 
ence  between  what  a  man  speaks  without  preparation,  and  that  which  he  pre- 
pares for  the  press.  And,  therefore,  we  cannot  sufficiently  commend  the  care 
which  his  illustrious  friends  took  to  erect  a  monument  so  capable  of  giving  him 
immortal  glory.  They  were  not  obliged  to  rectify  what  they  had  heard  him  say  ; 
for,  in  so  doing,  they  had  not  been  faithful  historians  of  his  conversation." 


INDEX 


ABERCROMBIE,  JAMES,  Esq.  of  Philadelphia,  his  communi- 
cations concerning  Dr.  Johnson,  vol.  ii.  p.  55. 

Abingdon,  Lord,  bon-mot  of,  iii.  133. 

Abington,  Mrs.  ii.  151,  154,  157- 

Abjuration,  oath  of,  ii.  152. 

Absentees  from  their  estates,  how  far  justifiable,  ii.  427,  428,  487. 

Abyssinia,  see  Lobo,  Rasselas. 

Academy,  Royal,  instituted,  i.  440. 

Action  in  publick  speaking,  ii.  59. 

Actors,  i.    J  36,   137,  159,  456  ;  ii.   77,  217,  268,  433  ;  iii.  146, 
339,  340. 

Adams,    Rev.   Dr.   i.    8,  52,  53,  62,  63,  107,  109,  144,  150,  157, 
206,  207,  208,  224  ;  ii.  251  ;  iii.  378,  388,  389,  455. 

Adams,  Miss,  iii.  378,  383. 

Addison,  Johnson's  opinion  of,  i.  202,  333  ;  ii.  169,  312  ;  iii.  52. 

.  -  -  —  his  style  compared  with  Johnson's,  i.  202. 

-----  Johnson's  Life  of,  iii.  181,  216. 

Adye,  Miss  Mary,  i.  36  ;  ii.  270  ;  iii.  112. 

'Adventurer,'   Hawkesworth's,  i.   165,  185,  197,  198,  199,  200. 

Adultery,  i.  432  ;  ii.   88  ;  iii.  59,  60. 

JEgri  Mphemens,  Johnson's,  iii.  460. 

Agar,  W.  E.  Esq.  ii.  374,  n. 

Agutter,  Rev.  Mr.  his  sermon  on  Johnson's  death,  iii.  494. 

Agriculture,  i.  241. 

Akenside's  Poetry,  ii.  20,  301. 

_  . -  his  early  friendship  with  Charles  Townshend,  ii.  280. 

Akerman,   Mr.   Keeper  of  Newgate,  character  and  anecdotes  of, 
128,  129. 

Alchymy,  ii.  193 

'  Aleppo,  Siege  of,'  a  tragedy,  ii.  495. 

Alfred,  i.  144. 

.his  WiU,  iii.  251. 

Allen,  Mr.  the  printer,  i.  366  ;  ii.  503  ;  iii.  4^3,  458. 

Johnson's  letter  to,  iii.  326. 

America  and  Americans,  ii.    129,    130,    145,   146,  147,  449,  450  ', 
iii.  12,  157,  208. 
VOL,  III.  64 


i02  INDEX. 

Amyat,  Dr.  his  anecdote  of  Dr.  Johnson,  i.  297- 

A'.derson,  Professor,  at  Glasgow,  ii.  375. 

Angeloni's  letters,  iii.  232. 

Angels,  iii.  382. 

^ntbologia,  iii.  463. 

Antiquities,  study  of,  iii.  11 4. 

Arbuthnot,  iii.  333. 

Argyle,  Archibald,  Duke  of,  iii.  334. 

Armorial  bearings,  as  ancient  as  the  Siege  of  Troy,  ii.  32; 

Armstrong,  Dr.  i.   275,  n  ;  ii.  373. 

Arnold,  Dr.  on  insanity,  ii.  426. 

Articles,  thirty-nine,   i.  465  ;  ii.  10. 

Ascham,  Roger,  Johnson's  Life  of,  i.  363. 

Ash,  John,  M.  D.  founder  of  the  Eumelian  Club,  iii.  472. 

Ashbourne,  mistress  of  an  inn  there,  ii.  451. 

Astle,  Thomas,  Esq.  iii.  250. 

Rev.  Mr.  iii.  399. 

Aston,  Molly,  i.  68  ;  iii.  53,  186,  «. 

Mrs.  her  maiden  sister,  ii.  389  ;  iii.  112. 

Athol  porridge,  iii.  206. 

Atterbury,  Bishop,  his  funeral  sermon  on  Lady  Cutts,  ii.  470. 

Attornies,  Johnson's  notion  of  them,  i.  486. 

Avarice,  iii.  37- 

Auchinleck,  Lord,  (the  Authour's  father)  ii.  226. 

. place  of,  ii.  224. 

Authours,  of  deciding  on  their  MSS.  ii.  44,  494  ;  iii.  35,  36,  81. 

-  -  . of  their  writing  for  profit,  ii.  414. 

-..-._  respect  due  to  them,  iii.  28,  233.  See  Books. 

_ should  put  as  much  into  their  books  as  they  will  hold,  ii.  79- 

_..-.-  had  better  be  attacked  than  unnoticed,  iii.  82. 
Authour,  the  young,  (Johnson's  poem,)  i.  49. 
Authourship,  iii.  46. 

B. 

Bacon,  Lord  Verulam,  ii.  440,  441. 
_  -  .  _  his  rules  for  conversation,  iii.  334* 
Badcock,  Rev.  Mr.  iii.  483. 
Bagshaw,  Rev.  Thomas,  ii.  98,  n. 

.  -  .  Johnson's  letters  to,  ii.  98  ;  iii.  431. 

Baker,  Sir  George,  iii.  435. 

Ballads,  (ancient)  ii.  60. 

Balloons,  iii.  437. 

Ballovv,  Thomas,  Esq.  (the  lawyer,)  ii.  294. 

Baltick,  Johnson's  proposed  expedition  to  the,  ii.  391. 

Banks,  Sir  Joseph's  Epigram  on  his  Goat,  ii.  3. 

-  -  -  -  his  Voyages,  ii.  7. 

Barber,  Mr.  Francis,  i.  187,  189,  275,  437  ;  ii.  6  ;  iii.  47S. 

-  -  -  -  Johnson's  letters  to  him,  i.  475,  476. 
Barclay,  Mr.  the  young  authour,  i.  388. 


INDEX.  503 

Barclay,  Mr.  one  of  Mr.  Thrale's  successors,  iii.  236. 

Baretti,  Joseph,  i.    238,  278,  285,  433  ;  ii.  256,  424  ;  iii.  166. 

the  first  who  received  copy  money  in  Italy,  ii.  415. 

his  frustra  litteraria,  ii.  424. 

his  trial,  i.  459. 

Johnson's  letters  to  him,  i.  285,  292,  299. 

Barnard,  Rev.  Dr.  (Bishop  of  Limerick,)  i.  141,  342  ;  iii.  233. 
Barretier,  J.  P.  Johnson's  Life  of,  i.  120,  121. 
Barrington,  Hon.  Daines,  ii.  89  ;  iii.  31. 
BaiTow,  Rev.  Dr.  his  Sennons,  iii.  226,  n. 
Barrowby,  Dr.  iii.  384. 

Barry,  Sir  Edward,  M.  D.  his  notion  that  pulsation  occasions  death 
by  attrition  :  refuted  by  Johnson,  ii.  303. 

James,  Esq.  (the  painter,)  Johnson's  letter  to,  iii.  306. 

—  -  his  paintings,  iii.  323. 

Barter,  the  enthusiast,  ii.  20. 

Bateman,  Edward,  Tutor  of  Christ's  Church,  his  lectures,  i.  64. 

Bath,  Johnson's  visit  to,  ii.  310. 

Bathurst,  Dr.  Richard,  i.    148,  153,  191,  197,  199  ;  iii.  162,  166. 

Baxter,  Richard,  his  works,  ii.  94  ;  iii.  294,  324. 

Anacreon,  iii    277,  339,  360. 

Bayle's  Dictionary,  i.    333. 

Beech,  Thomas,  ii.  82,  n. 

Beattie,  Dr.  i.  498  ;  ii.  5,  102  ;  iii.  295. 

letter  from  Johnson  to,  iii.  131. 

Beauclerk,  Topham,  Esq.  i.  194  ;  ii.  128  ;  iii.  4,  93,  123,  148,  290. 

-  his  violent  altercation  with  Johnson,  iii.  88. 

his  death,  iii.  123. 

Beauty,  manly,  described  by  Shakspeare  and  Milton,  iii.  201. 
Beauties  of  Johnson,  i.  171  ;  iii.  264. 
Bedlam,  ii.  192  ;  iii.  311. 
Beggars,  iii.  102,  250. 

*  Beggars  Opera,'  ii.  185,  186  ;  iii.  36. 
Belchier,  Surgeon,  ii.  319. 

Bellamy,  Mrs.  her  letter  to  Johnson,  iii.  341. 
Belsham,  Mr.  his   '  Essay  on  Dramatick  Poetry,'  i.  306,  n. 
Bentham,  the  Rev.  Dr.  ii.  253. 
Bentley,   Dr.    verses  by,  iii.  158. 
Berenger,  Richard,  Esq.   iii.  215. 
Beresford,  Mrs.  and  Miss,  iii,  376. 
Berkeley,  Bishop,  i.  367,  490  ;  iii.  162. 
Berwick,  Duke  of,  his  Memoirs,  iii.  9. 

Bevill,  Rev.  Mr.  his  ingenious  defence  of  Hammond,  iii.  192,  n. 
Bewley,  Mr.  his  enthusiastick  veneration  for  Johnson,  iii.  251. 
Bible,  the,  should  be  read  with  the  comments  by  Lowth,  Patrick, 
and  Hammond,  ii.  320. 

*  Bihliotheca  Harle'iana^  i.  124. 
Bicknell,  Mr.  i.  247. 
Bickerstaff,  Mr.  Isaac,  i.  451. 

*  Biddulph,  Mios  Sydney,'  the  Novel,  i.  306. 


504  INDEX. 

*  Biographia  Britannica,'  i.  425  ;  iii.   368,  n. 

Biography,  remarks  on,  i.  25,  32,  338  ;  ii.  333,  408  ;  iii.  476. 

Birch,  Rev.  Dr.  Thomas,  i.  122,  123,  131,  180. 

-  -  -  Johnson's  letters  to,  i.  131,  180,  225. 

-  -  -  his  letter  to  Johnson  on  his  Dictionary,  i.  225. 
Birds,  their  migration,  ii.  89. 

Bishops,  iii.  372.  See  Clergy. 

Blackfriars  Bridge,  i.  276. 
Black-lcttei  books,  their  value,  i.  481. 
Blacklock's  poetry,  i,   364. 

Blackmore,  Sir  Richard,  assisted  in  his  '  Creation,'  i.  469. 
...-.-  Johnson's  Life  of,  iii.  84. 
Blackstone,  Sir  William,  ii.  176,  n.  226,  n  ;  iii.  215. 
Blackwall,  Anthony,  i.  69. 
Blagden,  Dr.  iii.  164. 

Blair,    Rev.    Dr.    Hugh,   his  Sermons,   ii.  364,  360,  419,  423  ;  iii. 
52,  221. 

-  -  -  his  account  of  Pope's  '  Essay  on  Man,'  iii.  104. 

-  -  -  Rev.  Robert,  authour  of  the  '  Grave,'  ii.  312. 

-  -  -  Robert,  Esq.  Solicitor  General  for  Scotland,  ii.  312. 
Blake,  Admiral,  Johnson's  Life  of,  i.  120. 

Blaney,  Ehzabeth,  i.  35  ;  iii.  452. 

Blank  verse,  i.  335,  484  ;  ii.  493  ;  iii.  47,  156,  174,  189. 

Blenheim  Park,  ii.  256. 

Blue-stocking  Club,  iii.  228. 

Boerhaave,  Johnson  s  Life  of,  i.  114. 

Boetius  magis  Ph'ilosophus  quam  Christianas,  i.  486.  ^ 

Bolingbroke,  Henry  St.  John,  first  Viscount,  his  works,  i.  210. 

Bolton,  Mr.  Birmingham,  ii.  264. 

Bonaventura,  i.  389. 

Books  and  Booksellers,  ii.  337,  422  ;  iii.  8,  373. 

Boothby,  Miss  Hill,  some  account  of,  iii.  186,  «. 

_  .  .  .  .  Johnson's  letter  to,  iii.  186,  n. 

Boscawen,   Hon.  Mrs.   iii.  45. 

Boscovitch,  Prere,  i.  485  ;  ii.  219. 

Bosville,  Godfrey,  Esq.  iii.  136. 

Mrs.  ii.  24. 

Boswell,  (the  Authour  of  this  Work.) 

introduced  to  Johnson,  i.  307,  309,  310. 

his  '  Account  of  Corsica,'  i.  425,  434,  442. 

-  -  .  .  -  elected  of  the  Literary  Club,  ii.  81. 

his  '  Letter  to  the  People  of  Scotland,'  iii.  285. 

....  -his  Letter  on  Fox's  India  Bill,  iii.  354,  356. 

For  other   matters,   see,   i.  368,   392,   424,  467,  469  ;  ii. 

61,  224  ;  iii.  13,  57,  HI,  113,  270. 
.  ■  -  .  -  Johnson's  argument    in  favour  of  his   trying   his   fortune  in 

in  London,  iii.  430. 
.  .  .  -  .  Johnson's  excellent  letter  to  him  on  his  succeeding  to  his 

estate,  iii.  270. 


INDEX.  505 

Boswell,  Johnson's  other  letters  to  him,  i.  369,  390,  iO*,  433, 
442,  471,  497  ;  H.  4,  54,  102,  103,  104,  106,  108,  109, 
111,  112,  114,  115,  116,  120,  123,  126,  127,  130,  132, 
143,  194,  196,  198,  201,  222,  223,  226,  227,  231,  232, 
234,  235,  236,  310,  345,  346,  350,  352,  360,  362,  365, 
376,  379,  383,  386,  387,  388,  392,  453,  457,  458,  510  ; 
iii.  71,  94,  98,  99,  114,  116,  119,  132,  140,  199,  264, 
267,  329,  339,  345,  355,  356,  357,  359,  361,  428,  457, 
459. 

letters  to  Johnson  from  him,  i.   406,  434,  497,  498  ;  ii.  4, 

52,  107,  115,  118,  120,  126,  129,  130,  141,  200,  219, 
234,  345,  347,  349,  361,  363,  364,  372,  382,  386,  387, 
390,  452,  457,  462,  463,  464,  510  ;  iii.  68,  94,  98,  111, 
115,  130,  339. 

Mrs.  ii.  106,  109,  458  ;  iii.  116. 

Johnson's  letters  to,  ii.  344,  385  ;  iii.  272. 

her  answer,  iii.  273. 

. Dr.  his  character  of  Johnson,  ii.  283. 

.  .  _  -  -    Thomas  David,  Esq.  iii     131,  490. 

....  -  James,  Esq.  (the  authour's  second  son,)  ii.  287,  506,  a. 

Veronica,  (the  authour's  eldest  daughter,)  ii.  387. 

Bourchier,  Govemour,  iii.  212. 

Boufflers,  Mad.  de,  ii.  219. 

*'  Boulter's  Monument,"  a  poem,  i.  249. 

Bowles,  WiUiam,  Esq.  iii.  331. 

Bowyer,  Printer,  his   Life,  iii.  449. 

Boyse,  Mr.  Samuel,  iii.  483,  n. 

Braithwaite,  Daniel,  Esq.  iii.  372. 

Bramhall,  Archbishop,  his  work  on  Liberty  and  Necessity,  i.  466. 

Bribery,  i.  171. 

Brocklesby,  Dr.  his  kind  attention  to  Johnson,  iii.  286,  328,  333, 
358,  361,  419,  476,  488. 

....  ...  Johnson's  letters  to  him,  iii.  332,  432. 

Brodie,  Captain,  i.  68  ;  ii.  270. 

Brown,  Mr.  Thomas,  Johnson's  English  teacher,  i.  40. 

-  -  -  -  Isaac  Hawkins,  Esq.  ii.  164. 
Dr.  John,  i.  489. 

_  -  -  -  Rev.  Mr.    Robert,  of   Utrecht,   his   confutation   of  Hume, 
iii.  11. 

-  .  .  .  (capabiHty,)  iii.  102. 

Browne,  Sir  Thomas,  Johnson's  Life  of,  i.  176,  242. 

his  style,  how  far  imitated  by  Johnson,  i.  176. 

Brutes,  the   hardships  suffered  by  them  recompensed  by  the  care  of 
man,  ii.  316. 

not  endued  with  reason,  ii.  90. 

Brutus,  a  ruffian,  i.  306. 

Brydone's  Tour,  iii.  66. 

Buchan,  Earl  of,  anecdote  of,   ii.  30. 

Buchanan,  i.  358,  459  ;  iii.  294. 

Buckingham,  Catharine,  Duchess  of,  ii.  479. 


1 


S06  INDEX. 

Budgell,  Eustace,  ii.  312. 

Bud  worth,  Mr.  iii.  483,  n. 

BufFon,  remark  on,  ii.  343,  n. 

Bunyan's  '  Pilgrims  Progress,'  ii.  80. 

Burial  Service,  iii.  31.5. 

Burke,  Right  Hon.  Edmund,  anecdotes  of,   and   remarks  on,  i.  72, 

272,  400,  496  ;  ii.  256,  339  ;  iii.  28,  84,  161,  280,  370, 

371,  392,  404,  482,  483. 

-  .  _  .  his  bon-mots,  iii.  38. 

-  -  -  -  his  universal  knowledge,  iii,  1.55. 
the  Authour  introduced  to  him,  ii.  81. 

,  -  -  -  his  Letter  to  the    Sheriffs  of  Bristol  censured  by  JohnsQUj 
ii.  435. 

-  -  -  •  his  *  Essay  on  the  Sublime,'  &c.  i.  4,5.5. 
his  '  Letters  on  the  affairs  of  America,'  ii.  435. 

-  -  -  -  Richard,  jun.  Esq.    iii.  319,  320. 
Burman,  Johnson's  Life  of,  i.  124. 
Burnet's  History  of  his  own  Times,  ii.  60. 
_  -  .  .  -  his  Life  of  Rochester,  ii.  439. 
Burney,  Dr.  iii.  74,  295,  464. 

-  -  -  -  Johnson's   letters   to   him,  i.  226,   253,  256,  389  ;  iii.  3^ 

439,  457. 

-  -  -  -  his  Anecdotes  of  Johnson,  i.  257  ;  ii.  220  ;  iii.  251. 

-  -  -  -   Mrs.  i.  385,  n  ;  iii.  311. 

Miss,  and  her  works,  iii.  323,  370,  441,  468. 

Burrowes,    Rev.  Robert,  remarks  and  imitations  by,  iii.  464. 
Burton's  books,  iii.  353. 

'  Anatomy  of  Melancholy,'  i.  53,  481  ;  iii.  250. 

Bute,    Earl  of,  i.  294  ;  ii.  175  ;  iii.  244. 

-  -  -  Johnson's  letters  to,  i.  296,  299. 
Butler,  Dr.  ii.  278,  408,  415  ;  iii.  476. 
Byng,  Admiral,  i.  487- 

-  -  -  -  his  Epitaph,  i.  246.  ^ 
....  Hon.  John,  his  Letter  to  Mr.  Malone,  iii.  491. 

C. 

Callimachus,  iii.  143. 

Cambridge,   Richard  Owen,  Esq.  ii.  184  ;  iii.  300,  301,48V. 

...  University,  Johnson's  visit  to,  i.  380. 

Camden,  Charles,  first  Lord,  iii.  28,  29. 
Cameron,  Dr.  Archibald,  i.  119. 
Campbell,  Hon.  Archibald,  ii.  63  ;  iii.  379. 

Dr.  John,  i.  327,  429  ;  ii.  62,  482. 

his  '  Political  Survey,'  ii.  254. 

- Rev.  Dr.  Thomas,  ii.  164,  167« 

Mungo,  ii.  436,  437. 

Candidates  at  Elections,  instructions  for  them,    ii.  320. 

......  Johnson's  excellent   advice    to   them,    for  their   conduct 

during  the  contest,  iii.  361. 


INDEX.  507 

Canus  Meichior,  ii.  206. 

Capel's  Shakspeare,  iii.  145. 

Cardon,  his  method  of  composing  his  mind,  ii.  426,  n. 

Careless,  Mrs,  Johnson's  first  love,  ii.  264. 

'Careless  Husband,'  Comedy  of,  i.  142. 

Carleton,  Captain,  his  '  Memoirs,'   iii.  416. 

Carlisle,  Earl  of,  iii.  233,  343. 

Carte,  Thomas,  the  historian,  i.  39- 

Carter,  Mrs.    Elizabeth,  i.  101,  113,  161  j  ii.   419  ;  iii.  220,  370. 

Carthusians,  ii.  246. 

Cathcart,  Lord,  iii.  58. 

Catholicks,  see  Religion. 

Cator,  John,  Esq.  Johnson's  Character  of  him,  and  his  fine  seat,  iii. 

300,  301. 
Cattle,  extraordinary,  ii.  405. 
Cave,  Mr.  Edward,  Johnson's  Life  of,  i.  201  ;  ii.  31  ;  iii.  37,  484. 

-  -  -  Johnson's  letters  to  him,  i.  75,  88,  99,  100,   101,  102,   111, 

112,  113,  126,  128. 

Chamberlayne,  Rev.  Mr.  iii.  380. 

Chambers,  Catharine,  i.  266,  423. 

Chambers,  Ephraim,  his  proposal  for  his  Dictionary,  (probably  for 
the  second  edition  of  it,)  and  Sir  W.  Temple's  writ- 
ings contributed  to  form  Johnson's  style,  i.  175. 

Sir  Robert,  ii.  99,  102. 

_  -  .  _  -  .  Johnson's  letter  to  him,  i.  214. 

—  Sir  William,  iii.  296. — '  Heroick  Epistle,'  to  him  approv- 
ed by  Johnson,  iii.  232. 

Chamier,  Anthony,  Esq.  i.  373  ;  ii.  489. 

Chapone,  Mrs.  i,  161. 

- Johnson's,  letter  to,  iii.  344. 

Charade,   Johnson's   on   Dr.    Barnard,  Lord    Bishop  of   Limerick, 

iii.  300. 
Charlemont,  James,  first  Earl  of,  iii.  205. 
Charles  L  ii.  187.    7  t  t.         ,        •  •         r 
Charles  IL  ii.  166.  j  •^°^"'°"  ^  °P""°"  °^' 
Charles   V.    his  celebration  of  his  funeral  obsequies  in  his  life   time, 

ii.  485. 
Chastity,  ii.  261.  See  Marriage. 

Chatham,  Earl  of,  iii.  403. 
Chatterton's  Poems,  ii.  315. 
Chesterfield,  Lord,  i.  148,  201,  207,  208  ;  ii.  59,  157  ;  iii.  62,  91;, 

285,  415. 
his  Letters,  i.  209  ;  ii.  157. 

-  -  -  . might  be  made  a  pretty  book,  ii.  316,  317. 

.  .  Johnson's  severe  letter  to  him,  i.  205. 

Cheney's   *  English  Malady,'  ii.  298,  345. 

Cheynel,  Johnson's  Life  of,  i.  182. 

Children,  i.  41,  352,  462  ;  ii.  299,  385.  See  Education. 

-----  always  cruel,  i.  344. 

Cholmondeley,  Hon.  Mrs.  ii.  497  ,;  iii.  34. 


^8  INDEX. 

Cholmondelly,  George  James,  Esq.  iii.  425. 

Christian,  Rev.  Mr.  his  solution  of  a  strange  fact  at  St.  Kilda,  i.  429. 
Christian  Rehgion,  evidence  of,  i.  313,  335,  362  ;  ii.  436  ;  iii.  33.- 
Churchill's  poetry,  i.  327. 

Churton,   Rev.  Mr.  Ralph,  his  excellent  remarks,  iii.  315,  390,  n. 
Chymistry,  iii.  335. 

Cibber,  Colley,  i.  121,  142,  315,  456  ;  ii.  165,  333,  432  ;  iii.  340. 
See  George  II. 

-  .  -  -  Theophilus,  his  '  Lives  of  the  Poets,'  i.  151  ;  ii.  300,  301. 
Clarendon,  Lord,  continuation  of  his  '  History,'  ii.  236. 

_ his  style,  ii.  494. 

. -  -  commendation  of,  i.  449. 

Claret,  its  inefficacy  as  viMne,  iii.  86. 

Clarke,  Richard,  Esq.  Johnson's  letter  to,  iii.  354. 

Clarke,  Dr.  his  works,  iii.  489. 

*  Cleone,'  Dodsley's,  i.  255  ;  iii.  156. 

«  Cleonice,'  Hoole's,  ii.  125. 

Clergy,  the,  i.  483  ;  ii.  27,  83,  &c.   394  ;  iii.  23,  31,  213,  294, 

Clergyman,  advice  to  a  young  one,  iii.  133. 

Clerk,  Sir  P.  J.  iii.  207. 

Climate,  contributes  to  happiness,  ii.  44. 

Clive,  Lord,  iii.  102. 

Clive,  Mrs.  the  Actress,  iii.  146,  340. 

Club,  Essex-head,  iii,  350. 

Eumehan,  iii,  472. 

-  -  -  Literary,  see  L. 
Coachmakers-hall  Debating  Society,  iii.  218. 
Cobb,  Mrs,  iii,  112, 

Cock-lane  Ghost,  i.  319  ;  iii.  501. 

Colchester,  i.  364. 

Collections  in  writing,  their  use,  i.  456. 

College   Tutor,   an  old  one's  advice  to  one  of  his  pupils  relative  te 

composition,  ii,  79, 
Collins,  the  poet,  i.   301, 

Colman,  George,  Esq.   ii,  150,  162,  352  ;  iii.  148. 
-----  his  ♦  Letter  from  Lexiphanes,'  iii.  466. 
Combabus,  ii.  478. 
Commandment,  the  ninth,  i.  137. 
Condescension,  ii.  279. 
Confession,  auricular,  i.  467  ;   iii.  322. 
Conge  d'elire,  iii.  408. 
Congreve,  his  works,  i.  452,  459  ;  ii.  435. 

.  .  Johnson's  Life  of,  iii,  185. 

Rev.  Mr.  i.  41  ;  ii.  265,  277. 

*  Connoisseur,'  the,  i.  329. 

O'Connor,  Charles,  Esq.  his  *  Account  of  Ireland,'  i.  251, 

- Johnson's  letters  to,  i,  251  ;  ii.  368. 

Const,  Francis,  Esq,  ii,  289,  n. 
Controversial  writings,  ii.  251,  286, 
Convents,  i.  395. 


INDEX.  509 

Conversation,  ii.  96,  252,  256,  818,  434  ;  iii.  52,  294,  295,  296,  334. 
Conversation,   solid,    disagreeable   to    men    of    moderate    capacity, 

because  they  are  left  out  of  company  by  it,  ii.  319. 
Converts,  i.  467- 
Cook,  Captain,  ii.  283. 

Cooper,  John  Gilbert,  Esq.  ii.  164  ;  iii.  144. 
Convocation,  the,  of  the  Clergy,  i.  362. 
Coriat,  Tom,  ii.  28. 
Cork  and  Orrery,  John,  Earl  of,  i.  48?  ;  ii.  432,  479,  487  ;  iii.  31, 

154,  285. 
Corn  laws  of  Ireland,  i.  489. 
Corsican  language,  i.  396,  442,  449. 
Cotterell,  Misses,  i.  193. 
Country  Gentlemen,  ii.  43. 
-__------.  should  visit  London  with  their  wives,  to  acquire 

topicks  of  conversation,  ii.  429. 
Country  life,  ii.  490. 

Courtship  of  great  men,  how  far  allowable,  i.  395  ;  ii.  437. 
Courtenay,  John,  Esq.  his  poem  on  Johnson's  character,  i.  55f  177, 

247,  272  ;  ii.  105. 
Coverly,  Sir  Roger  de,  ii.  188. 
Cowley,  Johnson's  Life  of,  ii.  299  ;  iii.  170. 

the  edition  of  his  select  works,  by   Bishop   Hurd,  ii.  299, 

469. 
Coxeter,  Thomas,   Esq.   his  great  collection  of  English   Poetry,  ii. 

411. 
-  -  -  -  the  Lives  of  the  Poets,  by   Shields  and   Cibber,   compiled 

from  his  manuscripts,  ii.  411,  n. 
Crabbe,  Rev.  Mr.  his  '  Village,'  iii.  286. 
Cradock,  Joseph,  Esq.  ii.  306. 

Craven,   Lady,  (now  Margravine  of  Anspach,)  ii.  294. 
Croft,  Rev.  Herbert,  iii.  388,  397. 

his  '  Life  of  Young,'  iii.  187,  188. 

Cromwell,  the  Usurper,  Johnson's  design  of  writing  his  Life,  iii.  333. 

Crosbie,  Sir  Andrew,  ii.  143. 

Crouch,  Mrs.  iii.  325. 

Crousaz,  i.  113,  128. 

Cruikshank,  Mr.  Johnson's  letter  to,  iii.  446,  476. 

Cullen,  Dr.  iii.  359. 

Cumberland,  Richard,  Esq.  ii.  310  ;  iii.  193,  464. 

Curates,  the  question  of  raising  their  salaries  discussed,  ii.  394, 

D. 

Dalrymple,  Sir  John,  his  Memoirs,  ii.  58. 
-----  Sir  David,  see  Hailes,  Lord. 
Dalzel,  Mr.  Professor  of  Greek  at  Edinburgh,  iii.  464. 
Dartineuf,  ii.  254. 

Davies,  Mr.  Thomas,  character  and  anecdotes  of,  i.  306,  307,  437, 
438,  457  ;  ii.  108,  168,  172,  306,  466,  486  ;  iii.  147,  329. 
VOL.  III.  65 


alO  INDEX. 

Davies,  Johnson*s  kind  letters  to,  iii.  329,  446. 

-  -   -    his  '  Memoirs  of  Garrlck,'  iii.  1^1. 

Dawkins, ,  Esq.  the  traveller,  iii.  243. 

Deane's  *  Future  Life  of  Brutes,'  i.  430. 

Death,  reflections  on,  i.   264,  468  ;  iii.   16,  29,  372,  389.     See 

Johnso?i. 
Debts,  contracting  them,  the  source  of  much  evil  and  calamity,  iii. 

268,  270. 
Dedications,  Prefaces,  Introductions,  &c.  by  Johnson,  and  remarks 

on,  i.  130,  142,  146,  153,  201,  248,  273,  289,  302,  389,  409, 

424  ;  ii.  53,  69,  125,  363,  370,  463. 
Defoe,  Daniel,  ii.  501. 
Delany's  '  Observation  on  Swift,*  ii.  287- 
Dempster,  George,  Esq.  i.  320,  340,  341  ;  ii.  137- 
Dennis,   John,  his  critical  works  worth  collecting,  ii.  307. 
Derby,  some  particulars  relating  to,  ii.  415. 
Derrick,  Samuel,  Esq.  i.  303,  310,  354  ;  iii.  79,  299,  329- 
Desmoulins,  Mrs.  i.  56,  188  ;  ii.  465  ;  iii.  490. 
Devaynes,  John,  Esq.  iii.  368. 
Devil,  the  first  Whig,  iii.  40. 

-  -  -  his  influence  upon  the  souls  of  men,  iii.  382. 
Devonshire,  Duke  of,  ii.  434  ;  iii.  82. 

_   _  _   .  -    Duchess  of,  iii.  436. 

Diamond,  Mr.  i.  191. 

Dibden,  Mr.  i.  471. 

Dick,  Sir  Alexander,  letters  of,  ii.  358  ;  iii.  357. 

-  -  -  Johnson's  praise  of  his  liberality  as  a  Scotchman,  ii.  384. 
Dictionary  of  the  Enghsh  Language,   Johnson's,  i.    147,  148,  149, 

150,  346  ;  ii.  13,  53,  54,  371  ;  iii.  106,  144. 
.__.-.---------.---  first  pubhshed,  i.  231. 

_-■__---.----------  epitome  of,  i.  240. 

_..__._._-----.--.-  Garrick's  epigram  on,  i  237. 

.._-----------.----  Mr.    Harris    of    Salisbury's 

praise  of,  ii.  371. 
Dilly,  Messrs.  ii.  328,  366  ;  iii.  236,  248. 

Johnson's  letters  to,  ii.  382  ;  iii.  97,  353. 

Diomed,  his  father's  noble  exhortation  to  him  in  the  Iliad,  i.  488. 

*  Distressed  Mother,'  Johnson's  epilogue  to,  i.  50. 

Dixie,  Sir  Wolstan,  Bart.  i.  70. 

Dodd,   Rev.  Dr.  ii.  376,  396,  397,  398,  399,  418,  503  ;  iii:  4. 

-  -  -    Johnson's  assistance  to  him,  ii,  396,  399,  400. 

-  -  -  Johnson's  opinion  concerning  him,  iii.  311. 

-  -  -   Johnson's  letters  to  him,  ii.  400,  402. 

Dodington,    George   Bubb,    Esq.    (afterwards  Lord  Melcombe,)  i. 

173  ;  iii.  189,  «. 
Dodsley,  Robert,  i.  103,  207  ;  ii.  254,  305  ;  iii.  156. 
Dogs,  do  not  compare,  i.  459. 
Dominicetti's  baths,  i.  461. 
Do66ie,  Mr.  iii.  149,  182, 


HNDEX.  511 

Douglas,   Rev.  Dr.   (Bishop  of  Salisbury,)  i.  104,  204,  319,  439  ; 

iii.  372. 
Douglas  Cause,  i.  428  ;  ii.  73. 
Drake,  Sir  Francis,  Johnson's  Life  of,  i,  120,  121. 
Draughts,  game  of,  i.  248. 
Dreams,  i.  145. 

"  Drelincourt  on  Death,"  ii.  20. 
Drumgould,  Colonel,  ii.  216. 
Drummond,  Mr.  WiUiam,  Johnson's  letters  to,  i.  410,  413,  414. 

Dr.  ii.  346. 

Drunkeness,  see  IVine. 

Dryden,  Johnson's  Life  of,  ii.  24,  333  ;  iii.  59,  170,  174. 

-  -  -  -  compared  with  Pope,  i.  392. 

-  -  -  -  has  sometimes  a  profundity   which  Pope  could  never  reach, 

ii.  452. 

-  -  -  -  his  style  easily  distinguished  from  that  of  others,  iii.  4. 

-  -  -  -  his  description  of  life,  iii.  392. 

*  -  -  -  his  character  at  Will's  Coffee-house,  ii.  334. 

-  -  -  -  his  lines  on  Royal  patronage,  ii.  68. 

-  -  -  -  his  Prologues,  ii.  154. 

-  -  -  -  puzzled  himself  about  predestination,  iii.  59. 
DueUing,  ii.  32,  71  ;  iii.  314. 

Du  Halde's  '  Account  of  China,*  i.  432. 

Dunbar,  Dr.  iii.  133. 

Dunciad,  Pope's,  written  primarily  for  fame,  ii.  162. 

Duncombe,  William,  Esq.  iii.  31. 

Dundas,  Right  Hon.  Henry,  ii.  456. 

Dunning,  Mr.  his  high  compliment  to  Johnson,  ii.  480. 

Dury,  Major-General  Alexander,  i.  263. 

Dyer's  '  Farce,'  ii.  258. 

Dyer,  Samuel,  Esq.  i.  374. 

E. 

Easter,  ii.  112. 

Eccles,  Rev.  Mr.  i.  284. 

, ,  Esq.  i.  331. 

Economy,  petty,  hardly  worth  while,  iii.  298. 

Edinburgh  Royal   Society  transactions,   absurd  criticism  on  Johnson 

in,  iii.  160. 
Education,  i.   80,  352,   356,  393  ;  ii.  220,  247,  287,  420  ;  iii.  67, 

90,  400. 
Johnson  of  opinion  that  we  ought  not  to  refine  too  much 

in  the  education  of  our  children,  ii.  420. 
Edwards,  Thomas,  Esq.  his  '  Canons  of  Criticism,'  i.  207. 

.  . Rev.  Dr.  Johnson's  letter  to,  iii.  75. 

- Mr.  (Johnson's  fellow  Collegian,)  anecdotes  of,  iii.  21,  214. 

_ ....-of  New  England,  iii.  12. 

Eghntoune,  Alexander,  Earl  of,  i.  440  ;  ii.  436. 
Egotism,  ii.  422 ;  iii.  38,  39,  120. 


512  INDEX. 

Eld,  Mr.  iii.  40. 

Elibank,  Patrick,  Lord,  ii.  295,  318  ;  iii.  148,  235. 

Eliot,  Edward,  of  Port  Eliot,  (first  Lord,)  iii.  206,  415. 

Elizabeth,  Queen  of  England,  rate  of  learning,  iii.  150. 

Ellis,  Mr.  John,  ii.  293. 

Elphinstone,  Mr.  James,  his  edition  of  *  The  Rambler,'  i.  167. 

_--.._   Johnson's  letters  to,  i.   167,  169. 

Elwal,  the  enthusiast,  ii.  20,  92. 

Emigration,  ii.  473. 

Emmet,  Mrs.  the  Actress,  ii.  268. 

English    Poets,  the    selection  of  them  for  the  general  and  collected 

edition  of  their  works,  made  by  the  booksellers,  and  not  by 

Johnson,  iii.  78. 
Entails,  ii.  224,  231,  241. 

-   -  -    Johnson's  letters  on,  ii.  226,  227,  231,  232,  234. 
Envy,  i.  422  ;  ii.  99  ;  iii.  28. 
Epilogue  to  '  The  Distressed  Mother,'  i.  50. 
Espiscopacy,  iii.  79.  See  Bishops. 

Epitaphs,  ii.  220  ;  iii.  315,  471. 

Essay  on,  i.  120. 

Erasmus,  Johnson's  opinion  of  his  *  Ciceronianus,'  iii.  432. 

,..---  a  passage  of  his  apphed  to  Johnson,  iii.  387,  «• 

Erskine,  Hon.  Thomas,  ii.  28,  29. 

-----  Hon.  Andrew,  both  a  good  poet  and  a  good  critick,  ii.  405. 

Essex-Head  Chib.      See  Club. 

'  Euyfenio,'  a  poem,  ii.  81. 

Eumelian  Club.      See  Club. 

European    Magazine,  i.  285. 

Excise,  Johnson's  definition  of,  i.  234. 

Execution  of  criminals,  iii.  296. 

Exhibitions  of  Paintings,  i.  287. 


Fable,  Sketch  of  one,  by  Johnson,  ii.  75. 

Falconer,  Rev.  Mr.  a  Scotch  non-juring  Bishop,  iii.  79^. 

*  False  Alarm  ;'  see  Johison's  Political  Pamphlets. 

*  Falkland's  Islands,'  i.  492,  493  ;  ii.  6. 
Fame,  i.  351  ;  ii.  498. 

Families,  old,  respect  due  to  them,  ii.  II,  100. 

Farmer,  Rev.  Dr.    Johnson's  letters  to,  i.  474  ;  iii.  125. 

Farquhar,   in  Johnson's   opinion,   a  poet  of  considerable   merit,   iii. 

146. 
Fasting,  its  effect  on  one  of  the  Fathers,  ii.  246. 
Favours  unreasonable,  i.  290,  291. 
Felixmarte  of  Hircarnia,  i.  44. 
Females,  succession  of,  see  Entail ;   Feudal  System. 
Ferguson,  Sir  Adam,  i.  24. 
-----  the  Astronomer,  i.  461. 
Feudal  System,  ii.  31,  52,  100,  228,  240  ;  iii.  67.         See  Entail'. 


MDEX.  518 

Fiction,  real  and  original,  a  very  small  quantity  of  it  in  the  world, 

iii.  334<. 
Fielding,   compared  with  Richardson,  i.  427. 

-  ...  his  works,  ii.  28,  309. 
Fingal.      See  Ossian. 

Fitzherbert,  Mr.  ii.  404-  ;  iii.  90,  162. 

Fitzosborne's  letters,  iii.  368,  n. 

Flatman's  poems,  ii.  299. 

Fleet-street,  i.  359  ;  ii.  164,  239  ;  iii.  21.  See  London. 

Fleming,  Sir  Michael  le,  i.  359. 

Flexman,  Mr.  index-maker,  iii.  410. 

FHnt,  Bet,  iii.   224,  225. 

Flood,  Right  Hon.  Henry,  his  bequest  to  Dublin  University,  i.  251, n. 

-  -  -   his  Epitaph  on  Johnson,  iii.  496. 
Floyer,  Sir  John,  i.  40  ;  iii.  362. 

-  -    -  Authour  of  an  excellent  book  on  the  Asthma,  iii-  362. 
Fludyer,  Rev.  Mr.  ii.  253. 

Foote,  Samuel,  anedotes  and  character  of,  i.  458,  468  ;  ii.  12,  332, 

432,  499  ;  iii.  323,  370. 
Fop,  a  clerical  one,  only  half  a  beau,  iii.  204. 
Foppery,  never  cured,  i.  487- 
Forbes,  Sir  William,  ii.  343,  452. 
Ford,  the  Rev.  Cornelius,  i.  44  ;  iii.  62. 
Fordyce,  Dr.  James,  i.  311  ;  iii.  486. 
Forrester,  Colonel,  ii.  284. 
Forster's  Voyage  to  the  South  Sea,  ii.  430. 
Fortune-hunters,  i.  490. 

Forster,  Mrs.  Ehzabeth,    (Milton's  grand-daughter,)  i.  181. 
Fox,  Right  Hon.  Charles  James,  ii.  496  ;  iii.  279,  384. 
France,  Johnson's  visit  to,  ii.  199. 

-  -   -  his  Journal  there,  ii.  204,  205,  Sff  seq. 

-  -   -   the  reason   assigned  why   he  did  not  print  an  account  of  his 

travels  there,  iii.  20. 

-  -    -   his  opinion  of  that  countrj^,  iii.  63. 
Francis's  Horace,  iii.  66. 

Franklin,    Rev.    Dr.    his   translation   of  Lucian's  '  Demonax,'   and 

Dedication  to  Johnson,  iii.  167. 
...   -   Benjamin,  his  definition  of  man,  ii.  483. 
French,  Mrs.  iii.  178. 
French  writers,  superficial,  and  why,  i.  353. 

-  -   -   language,  Johnson's  knowledge  of,  i.  450. 

-  -   -    their  manners  and  writings,  i.  484  ;  iii.  63,  152. 
Frenchmen  use  big  words  for  little  matters,  i.  367. 
-----    in  general  know  no  more  than  women,  ii.  490. 
-----   their  literature,  i.  484. 

-----    a  gross  ill-bred  people,  iii.  63,  335. 

Frederick  III.  Johnson's  Life  of,  i.  242. 

Friends,  and  Friendship,  i.  192,  236  ;  ii.  33  ;  iii.  90,  118,  136,  144. 

-  -  -  -  whether  there    are  any  probable  grounds  for  supposing  that 

they  shall  know  one  another  in  a  future  state,  ii.  18;  iii.  29. 


fl4  INDEX. 

Friendship,  departed,  i.  169  ;  ii.  393  ;  iii.  29. 
-----  one  of  its  greatest  pleasures,  ii.  55. 

an  Ode,  i.  129. 

FuUarton,  Colonel,  iii.  66. 

Future  state  of  man,   ii.  18,  445  ;  iii.  10,  315. 

-  -  -  different  degrees  of  happiness  in  heaven,  i.  394  ;  iii.  11. 

G. 

Gaming,  ii.  29,  295. 

Ganganelli's  letters,  iii.  9. 

Gardiner,  Mrs.  i.  191  ;  ii.  294  ;  iii.  343,  480,  tt. 

Garrick,  David,  Esq.  anecdotes  of,  i.  80,  81,  146, 154, 156,  157»  160, 
197,  210,  308,  441,  448,  456  ;  ii.  71,  74,  77,  154,  155, 
267,  268,  315,  332,  333,  493,  398,  499  ;  iii.  15,  90, 
323. 

-  -  -  -  his  Shakspeare  Jubilee,  i.  441. 

-  -  -  -   Johnson's  opinion  of  him,   i.    173,  308,  456,  489  ;  ii.  42, 

71,  154,  193,  248,  268,  303,  315,  332,  333,  433,  498; 
iii.  29,  90,  91,  144,  153. 

-  -  -  his  death,  iii.  78. 

-  -  -  .   Peter,  Esq.  i.  92  ;  ii.  144,  266,  270  ;  iii.  112. 
Mrs.  iii.  219. 

Gastrel,  Mrs.  ii.  273  ;  iii.  112. 

Gaubins,  Professor  at  Leyden,  his  criterion  of  madness,  i.  57- 

General  Warrants,  i.  444. 

Gay,  the  Orpheus  of  highwaymen,  ii.  185. 

Gentilhomme  est  toujours  Gentilhomme,  i.  385. 

Gentility,  i.  384  ;  ii.  165,  166  ;  iii.  11. 

-----  more  virtues  among  the  higher  classes  than  among  those  of 

inferiour  ranks,  iii.  64. 
Gentleman's  Magazine,  i.  94. 

Gentlewoman,  one  born  so,  always  distinguishable,  i.  489. 
George,  I.  (King,)  ii.  166. 
II.  i.  119,  120,  167  ;  ii.  167- 

-  -  -  -  III.   his  accession   and  cljawcter,  i.  278,  286,  294,  424  ; 

iii.  127.  » 

-  -  -  -  Johnson's  interview  with,  i.  417,  418,  "^'19,  420. 

Ghost,  i.   318,   319  ;  ii.  19,' 20^  31,  34,  472  ;  iii.  17,  60,  61,  96, 

217. 
Gibbon,   Edward,   Esq.   i.   441,  n;  ii.  171,   185,  255,  482  ;    iii. 
201. 

-  -  -  -  his  imitation  of  Johnson's  style,  iii.  468. 
Gibbons,  Dr.  iii.  243. 

Gillespie,  Dr.  consulted  on  Johnson's  case,  iii.  357* 

-  -   -  .    Johnson's  praise  of  his  opinion,  iii.  357. 
Gisborne,  Dr.  his  anecdote  of  Mr.  Fitzherbert,  ii.  404. 
Glow-worm,  Johnson's  fable  of,  ii.  75. 

his  Latin  poem  on,  i.  431. 

Gluttony,  i.  365. 


INDEX.  515 

Goldsmith,  Dr.  Oliver,  character  of,  i.  320,  323,  &  seq. 

anecdotes  of,  i.  171,  322,  323,  324,  325,  326,  422,  451 ; 

ii.  33,  34,  38,  45,  54,  57,  61,  62,  64,  68,  69,  70,  74, 
75,  78,  79,  96,  97,    305  ;  iii.  148,  162,  286. 

.  .  _  _  .  treated  by  Charles,  the  first  Lord  Camden,  as  an  ordinary 
man,)ii.  28. 

his  death,  ii.  116,  118. 

Johnson's  Epitaphs  on  him,  ii.  340,  341,  342. 

.  .  ■  _   -  his  hon-mots  on  Johnson,  i.  440  ;  ii.  75,  76  ;  iii.  232. 

-  _  .  -   -   Johnson's  opinions  of  him  and  his  works,  i.  320,  427  ;  ii. 

22,  34,  45,   179,  305,  419,  485,  489,  490,  504  ;  iii. 

28,  36,  82,  158,  164. 
Good-breeding,  perfect,  in  what  it  consists,  i.  451. 
Good  Friday,  ii.  175,  177,  178  ;    iii.  30. 
Gordon,  Lord  George,  iii.  126,  212. 

Gower,  Earl,  his  letter  to  Swift,  in  favour  of  Johnson,  i.  108. 
Graham,  Lord,  iii.  87,  229. 
_  .   _   .  Miss,  (now  Lady  Dashwood,)  iii.  108. 
Grainger,  Dr.  his  "  Sugar  Cane,"  ii.  258,  259. 

-  -   -   -    his  "  Ode  on  Solitude,"  ii.  443. 
Grammar  school,  Johnson's  plan  of,  i.  82. 

Granger,  Rev.  Mr.  his  '  Biographical  History,'  ii.  549. 
Granville,  John  Cateret,  Earl,  i.  476  ;  anedote  of,  iii.  150. 
Grattan,  Henry,  Esq.   his  oratory  censured,  iii.  403. 
Gray's  poetry,  i.  316  ;  ii.  20,  155,  156,  162,  301,  306  ;  iii.  150. 

-  -  -   Dr  ii.'  215,  «. 

Great  men  not  fond  of  Johnson's  company,  and  why,  ii.  234,  235. 

Greek,  Johnson's  knowledge  of,  iii.  464. 

Green,  Mr.  Richard,  of  Lichfield,  his  museum,  iii.  111- 

-  -   -  letter  from  Johnson  to  hiifi,  iii.  471. 
Greenwich  Hospital,  i.  358. 
Grenville,  Right  Hon.  George,  i.  493. 
Grierson,  Mr.  i.  476. 

De  Groot,  a  descendant  of  Grotius,  ii.  381. 

Grotius,  ii.  380. 

Grove,  Rev.  Mr.  ii.  302  ;  iii.  166. 

Guardian   to  children,  instructions  relative   to   the  appointment  of,/ 

iii.  101. 
Gustavus  Adolphus,  Harte's  Life  of,  iii.  206. 
Guthrie,  William,  Esq.  i.  96,  429  ;  iii.  164. 
Gwyn,  Mr.  the  architect,  ii.  249. 

H. 

Habeas  Corpus,  i.  444. 

Habits,  early,  not  conquerable  without  unremitting  exertion,  ii.  185. 
Hackman,  Rev.  Mr.  iii.  88. 

Hailes,  Lord,  his  and  Johnson's  opinion  of  each  other,  i.  339,  352  ; 
ii.  226. 


516  INDEX. 

Hailes,  his    «  Annals  of  Scotland,"  ii.  115,    116,   120,    128,   161, 
196,  197,  200,  223,  232,  319,  376  ;  iii.  69,  80,   105. 

his  opinion  on  entails,  ii.    230. 

Hale,  Lord  Chief  Justice,  anecdote  of,  iii.  398. 
Hales,  Venerable  John,  his  works,  iii.  402. 
Hale,  General,  iii.  70. 

-  -  -  Mrs.  iii.  216. 

Hamilton,  Right  Hon.  William  Gerard,  i.  382  ;  iii.  492. 
...  -  _  his  kindness  to  Johnson,  iii.  342. 
.....  Johnson's  letters  to,  iii.  342,  444. 

Hamilton's  poems,  ii.  405. 

Hammond,  James,  authour  of  the  Elegies,  iii.  153. 

Hanway,  Joseph,  i.  243,  482. 

Happiness,  i.  394  ;  ii,  316  ;  iii.  11.  See  Life. 

-----   may  be  obtained,  if  we  apply  our  heart  to  piety,   i.  155. 

-----  the  reasonable  hope  of  a  happy  futurity,  the  only  solid 

basis  of  happiness,  iii.  72. 
Harleian  Miscellany,  i.  142. 
Harrington,  Dr.  his  *  Nugae  Antiquae,'  iii.  290. 
......  Caroline,  Countess  of,  ii.  396. 

Harris,  James,  Esq.  of  Salisbury,  ii.  372,  483,  493,  494. 

-  -   -   his  high  praise  of  Johnson's  Dictionary,  ii.  372. 

-  -  -   Thomas,  Esq.  Proprietor  of  Covent  Garden  Theatre,  ii.  37(?. 
Harte's  '  History  of  Gustavus  Adolphus,'  i.  480  j  iii.  206. 
Harwood,  Rev.  Dr.  ii.  306. 

Hastie.      See  Schoolmaster. 

Hastings,  Warren,  Esq.  character  of,  iii.  193. 

-  -  -   -    his  letter  to  the  authour,  iii.  194. 
....    Johnson's  letters  to,  iii.  195,  197- 
Hawkesbury,  Lord,  Johnson's  letter  to.  ii.  400. 
-----.  his  Lordship's  high  opinion  of  Johnson,  ii.  402. 
Hawkesworth,  Dr.  i.  153. 

.-..--.    his  '  Voyages,'  ii.  89. 

Hawkins,  Sir  John,  i.  153. 

.....  remarks  on  his  Life  of  Johnson,  i.  26,  162. 

-  -  -  ..contradicted   and   corrected,   i.    103,    115,   133,  162,  165, 

183,  185,  190,  227,  243,  264,  325,  415  ;  ii.  257  ;  iii- 

411,  450,  451,  452,  473,  477,  4S2. 
-----  Rev.  Thomas,  Poetry  Professor  at  Oxford,  ii.  495. 
.....  Mr.  Johnson's  first  instructor  in  Latin,  ii.  40. 
Hay,  Lord  Charles,  iii.  158. 
Heard,  the  word  how  to  be  pronounced,  ii.  443. 
Heberden,  Dr.  iii.  327,  480. 

Hebrides,  Johnson  s  visit  to,  i.  351,  428,  498  ;  ii.  8,  104. 
....    Johnson's  Tour  to  them,  ii.  104. 

-  -   -   -    the  pleasantest  journey  he  ever  made,  ii.  351. 

-  -  -   -    Johnson's  Account  of  his  journey,  ii.  126,  135,  150,  183, 

358,  394,  424  ;  iii.  21,  40. 

-  -  -  -   commended  by  every  body  on  various  grounds,  ii.  394. 


INDEX.  SI  7 

Hector,  Mr.  Edmund,  i.  42,  48,  76,  129,  134. ;  ii.  261,  263  ;  iii. 

253,  366,  454. 
....  Johnson's  letters  to,  iii.  262,  457. 
.  -  -  -  Verses  on  a  sprig  of  Myrtle,  written  by  Johnson   for  him, 

i.  76. 
Heely,  Mr.  and  Mrs.  i.  414,  450. 
Hell,  paved  with  good  intentions,  ii.  180. 
Helmet,  hung  out  formerly,  as  a  sign  of  hospitality,  ii.  506. 
Henderson,  Mr.  John,  iii.  379,  388. 
-----  the  Actor,  ii.  155,  n;  iii.  341. 
Henry,  the  Historian,  should  have  confined  himself  to  the  history  of 

ma.nners,  iii.  47. 
*  Hermippus  Redivivus,'  Campbell's,  i.  327- 
«  Heroick  Epistle,'  iii.  232,  402. 
Hervey,  Hon.  Henry,  i.  87. 
....  Hon.  Thomas,  i.  416. 
Hicky,  Mr.  the  painter,  ii.  165,  166. 

Highwaymen,  the  question  of  shooting  them  discussed,  ii.  479. 
Higher  classes,   more  virtue   found  among  them,   than  in  inferiour 

stations,  iii.  64. 
Hill,  Aaron,  Esq.  his  account  of  *  Irene,'  i.  158. 

-  -  -  Dr.  John,  his  works,  i.  420. 

HinchlifFe,  Dr.  John,  Bishop  of  Peterborough,  iii.  122. 
History  and  Historians,  i.  333,  449  ;  ii.  44,  66,  78,  184,  289  ;  iii. 
47. 

-  -  -  -  great  abilities  not  necessary  for  writing  it,  i.  333. 

-  -  -  -  of  Manchester,  by  Whitaker,  for  the  most  part  a  dream,  iii. 

47.      See  Henry. 

-  .  _  -  of  the  House  of  Yvery  praised,  iii.  303. 
Hogarth,  i.  119. 

Hobdays,  ii.  263. 

-----  none  observed  in  Scotland,  ii.  263. 

Hollis,  Thomas,  Esq.  iii.  220. 

Home,  Mr.  John,  his  Parody  on  Derrick,  i.  355. 

-  -   -   his  proposed  History  of  the  rising  in  1745,  ii,  415. 
Homer,  Johnson's  translations  from,  i.  48. 

-  -  -  -  critiques  on,  ii.  440  ;  iii.  44,  46. 
Hoole,  John,  his  '  Tasso,'  i.  302. 

-  -  -  his  *  Ariosto,'  iii.  198. 

-  -  -   his  *  Cleonice,'  ii.  125. 

-  -  -   Johnson's  letters  to,  ii.  125  ;  iii.  438. 

-  -   -   curious  anecdote  of,  iii.  295. 

-  -  -  his  attention  to  Johnson,  iii.  482. 

-  -  -  the  Rev.  Mr.  iii.  484. 

Hope,  life  insupportable  without,  ii.  491. 

Hope,  Dr.  iii.  359. 

Horace,  Johnson's  translations  from,  i.  46,  47. 

-  -  -  -  his  Odes  cannot  be  perfectly  translated,  iii.  66. 

-  -  -  -  translation  by  Dr.  Francis,  commended,  ibid. 
Home,  Rev.  Dr.  ii.  116,  253  ;  iii.  497,  n. 

VOL.  III.  66 


5li  INDEX. 

Home  Tooke,  Mr.  John,  hi.  65,  n. 
Hospitality,  iii.  154,  322. 

promiscuous,  does  not  procure  lasting  regard,  ii.  23. 

-----    in  London,  ii.  67- 

Houghton  Gallery,  iii.  416. 

House  of  Commons,  iii.  108,  201,  225. 

---.---..  .  how  a  Counsel  should  address  that  assembly,  ii. 

466,  467  ;  iii.  201. 
...  -     Peers,  iii.  57,  58. 
Howard,  General  Sir  George,  ii.  192. 

-  -  -  -  the   Hon.  Edward,  a  celebrated  couplet  of  his  misquoted, 

i.  470,  n. 
Hudibras,  ii.  187,  306. 
Huggins,  Mr.  iii.  146. 

Hume,  David,  Esq.  his  style  French,  i.  343. 
.   -   -   his  Scepticism,  i.  346,  362,  394  ;  ii.  251,  407- 

-  -  -  his  Life,  ii.  375. 

-  -   -   his  disbelief  of  a  future  state,  i.  468. 
Humphrey,  Ozias,  Esq.  iii.  364,  365. 
Hunter,  Mr.  Johnson's  school-master,  i.  40. 

-  -  -  -  Miss,  iii.  292,  «. 

Hurd,  Dr.  (Bishop  of  Worcester,)  i.  69  ;  ii.  299,  336,  469  ;  iii. 

297,  382. 
Hussey,  Rev.  Mr.  John,  iii.  77. 

-  -  -  -  Rev.  Dr.  Thomas,  iii.  485. 
Hutton,  Mr.  iii.  485. 

Hutton's  '  History  of  Derby,*  ii.  416- 
Hypochondria,  i.  57. 

L 

Idea,  the  improper  use  of  that  word,  ii.  443. 

«  Idler,'  Johnson's,  i.  258,  259. 

Impressions  and  internal  impulses  dangerous  and  deceitful,  iii.  240^. 

Incidlt  in  Scyllam,  &c.    traced  to  its  source,  iii.  291,  n. 

India,  the  Government  of,  iii.  316. 

Infidel,  an  odious  character,  ii.  317-  » 

-  -   -  writers,  how  to  be  treated,  ii.  251. 
Infidelity,  ii.  179,  317,  375  ;  iii.  383. 
-----  conjugal,  iii.  59,  107. 
Influence  of  the  crown  in  Parliament,  i.  478. 
Influenza,  ii.  223. 

Inns,  ii.  257- 

Inquisition,  i.  363. 

Intellectual  preeminence,  the  highest  superiority,  i.  484. 

_  .  .  -  -    nature  abhors  a  vacuum,  i.  497- 

-----    men  do  not,  like  others,  become  narrow  in  a  narrow  place, 

ii   484. 
Ireland,  and  the  Irish,  i.  251,  252  ;  ii.  141  ;  iii.  110. 
Irishmen  mix  better  with  the  English  than  the  Scots  do,  ii.  82. 


1 


INDEX.  m-- 

Irish  Clergy,  considerable  scholars  among  them,  i.  490. 
......    their  disregard  of  quantity,  i.  'tOO. 

*  Irene,'  Johnson's  tragedy  of,  i.  83,  87,  89,  90,  91,  92,  124. 
....  acted,  i.  156,  157,  158. 

Islam,  a  description  of,  ii.  435. 

J. 

Jackson,  Henry,  (one  of  Johnson's  early  friends,)  ii.  388. 

Jacobite,  Johnson's  ingenious  defence  of  that  character,  i.  337; 

Jackson,  Mr.  Johnson's  school-fellow,  ii.  267. 

James,  II.  his  character,  ii.  166. 

James,  Dr.  his  •  Medicinal  Dictionary,'  i.  130;  ii.  294i 

...  his  death,  ii.  281. 

January  30th,  ii.  10,  11. 

Jenyns,  Soame,  his  *  Origin  of  Evil,'  i.  247- 

_  ...  his  *  Evidence  of  the  Christian  Rehgion,'  iii.  3,  11. 

Johnson,  Michael,  (Dr.  Johnson's  father,)  i.  12,  tsf  seq. 

....  his  death,  i.  66. 

....   Sarah,  (Dr.  Johnson's  mother,)  Johnson's  letters  to,  i.  265.^ 

266,  267. 
....  her  death,  i.  268. 

....   Nathanael,   (Dr.  Johnson's  brother,)  i.  33. 
....    Richard,  Schoolmaster  at  Nottingham,  i.  166. 
Johnson,  Dr.  Samuel,  his  birth,  i.  33. 
.  >  .  -  .  touched  by  Queen  Anne,  for  the  evil,  i.  39. 
.....  goes  to  school  at  Lichfield,  i.  40. — At  Stourbridge,  i.  44. 
.....  enters  at  Pembroke  College,  Oxon,  i.  52,  leaves  it,  i.    65. 

-  -  .  -  -  becomes  Usher  of  Market-Bosw^orth  School,  i.  69.     See 

iii.  483. 
.....  removes  to  Birmingham,  i.  70. 
.....  marries  Mrs.  Porter,  i.  79. 
.....  opens  an  Academy  at  Edial,  i.  80. 
.....  goes  to  London  with  Garrick,  i.  84. 
_  ....  a  writer  in  the  '  Gentleman's  Magazine,'  i.  94,  &c.     See 

iii.  484. 
.....  endeavours  to  obtain  the  degree  of  A.  M.  to  get  a  school, 

i.  107. 
.....  his  distressed  circumstances,  and  filial  piety,  i.  131,   132. 
.  -  -  -  .  loses  his  wife,  i.  185. 
.....  his  extreme  grief  for  her  loss,  i.  212,  218,  235  ;  ii.  208  ; 

iii.  24,  119,  431. 
.....  composes  her  funeral  sermon,  i.  191. 
.....  visits  Oxford,  i.  210,  and  again,  i.  274  ;  ii.  248  ;  iii.  376, 

455. 

-  ...  -  obtains  his  degree  of  A.  M.  from  that  University,  i.  2 J 6. 
.....  his  letters  on  that  occurrence,  i.  220,  &c. — The  Diploma, 

i.  221. 
....  -  declines  taking  holy  orders,  i.  250. 

-  ,  .  .  .  loses  bis  mother,  i.  264. 


520  INDEX. 

JoHNSON)  obtains  a  pension  of  £  300, per  ann.  i.  294*,  £3*  seq. 

See  i.  296  ;  iii.  404<. 
.  _  -  .  -  visits  Cambridge,  i.  380. 

created  LL.  D.  by  Trinity  College,  Dublin,  i.  381. 

by  Oxford  University,  ii.  158,  159,  160, 

161. 
.....  his  interview  with  the  King,  i.  4t\1,  418,  419,  &c. 
....  -  appointed   Professor  of  Ancient   Literature  in  the  Royal 

Academy,  i.  440. 
....  -  endeavours  to  get  into  Parliament^  i.  494,  l^  seq. 
.  .  _  .  .  visits  the  Hebrides,  ii.  104,  See  Hebrides. 

Wales,  ii.  120. 

France,  ii.  199,  200,  &c. 

his  account  of  it,  ii.  203,  204,  205,  206,  &c. 

.  ....  his  various  places  of  residence,  iii.  106,  107. 
.....  his  long  and  gradual  decline,  iii.  326,  328. 
...  -  .  his  various  disorders,  iii.  337,  429,  432,  449. 

-  .  -   .  -  medical  opinions  on  his  case,  iii.  357 »  358,  367. 
.....  his  proposed  tour  to  Italy  for  his  health,  iii.  411,  418. 
-----  progress  of  his  dissolution,  iii.  472,  to  the  end. 
his  will  and  codicil,  iii.   479,  480,    481. — Remarks  on 

them,  iii.  482. 
.....  his  burning  his  MSS.  iii.  481. 
.....  his  MS.  account  of  his  own  life,  iii.  481,  482. 

-  ....  his  death,  iii.  490. 
.....  his  funeral,  iii.  492. 

-----  his  monuments  and  epitaphs,  iii.  492,  493,  494,  495. 
His  Character  and  Manners. 

-  ....  his  peculiarities  of  person  and  manners,  i.  38,  77»  81,  117, 

118,    119,    194,    198,   311,378  ;  ii.   158,   219,330; 

iii.  66,  292. 
.....  his  attention  to  small  things,  i.  364  ;  iii.  14,  409. 
.....  his  candour,   i.  318  ;  iii.    299. — Increased  as  he  advanced 

in  life,  iii.  336. 
.....  not   a  complainer,    iii.   234,   283,  434,  seldom   courted 

others,  iii.  31. 
.....  not  prone  to  inveigh  against  his  own  times,  ii.  280,  468. 
.....  a  great  observer  of  characters,  ii.  292. 
.....  never  courted  the  great,  iii.  234. 
.....  never  got  entirely   rid  of  his  provincial   pronunciation,  ii^ 

16,  267. 
.....  by  what  means  he  attained  his  extraordinary  accuracy  and 

flow  of  language,  i.  162. 
.....  his  visit  to  his  native  town,  where  he  finds  things  altered, 

i.  292,  293. 
-----  his  library,  i.  344. 

-----  his  love  for  the  acquaintance  of  young  persons,  i.  348. 
.....  his  observance  of  certain  days,  i.  376. 
-----  his  custom  of  talking  to  himself,  i.  377. 


INDEX.  521 

Johnson,  his  watch  inscription,  i.  433. 

-  .  -  .  -  his  amusement  in  his  sohtary  hours,  i.  100. 
-----  his  company  sought  by  few  of  the  great,  iii.  234'. 

-  .  -  -  .  general  traits  of  his  character  and  mode  of  Uving,  i.   55^ 

56,  76,  77,  85,  313,  360,  399,  478,  500  ;  ii.  23,  124, 
134,  283,  354,  414,  437  ;  iii.  26,  44,  150,  156,  186, 
230,  292,  333,  392. 

.....  his  course  of  study  desultory  and  irregular,  i.  336. 

-----  his  instructions  for  study,  i.  440. 

...  -  -  his  early  acquisition  of  general  knowledge,  i.  348. 

-  -  -  .  .  his  manner  of  composing  his  Poetical  Works,  i.  399. 
his  '  Rambler,'  ii,  309. 

.  -  -  -  -  his  censure  of  one  of  his*  Ramblers,'  iii.  144. 

^  -  -  .  -  at  a  late  period  of  his  life  could  have  made  his  '  Ramblers' 
better,  iii.  397. 

_  _  -  ,  -  his  manner  of  composing  his  other  works,  ii.  325,  n. 

-----  never  looked  at  his  *  Rasselas'  since  it  was  iirst  published, 
iii.  237. 

.  .  -  -  .  wrote  six  sheets  of  translation  from  the  French  in  one  day, 

-----  wrote  a  hundred  lines  of  the  Vanity  of  Wishes  in  a  day,  i. 
399. 

.  -  -  .  -  wrote  seventy  lines  of  the  Vanity  of  Wishes  in  a  day,  with- 
out putting  one  of  them  to  paper,  till  all  was  finished,  i. 
153. 

-----  wrote  three  columns  of  the  Gentleman's  Magazine,  con- 
taining ParHamentary  Debates,  in  an  hour,  iii.  484. 

-----  wrote  forty-eight  of  the  printed  octavo  pages  of  the  Life 
of  Savage,  at  a  sitting,  i.  136. 

-----  his  style  formed  on  Sir  William  Temple's,  a  paper  of 
Ephraim  Chambers  respecting  the  second  edition  of  his 
Dictionary,  and  Sir  Thomas  Brov.'n,  i.  175,  176  ;  ii. 
493,  «. 

-  -  -  -  ,  his  own  remarks  on,  and  masterly  vindication  of  his  style, 

ii.  423,  424. 
-----  his  extraordinary  memory,  i.  37,  43. 
-----  retained  in  it  verses  of  obscure  authours,  i.  491  ;  iii.  224. 
-----  his  superlative  power  of  wit,  ii.  74. 
-----  his  dexterity  in  retort,  i.  308  ;  iii.  294. 
-----  his   conversation  eminently   distinguished  by  fecundity  of 

fancy,  and  choice  of  language,  iii.  34. 
-----  nothing  of  the  old  man  in  it,  iii.  49,     293. 
-----  his  early,  long,  habitual,  and  systematick  piety,  i.  35,  58, 

197,  376,  380,  423,  440,  472,  499  ;  ii.  40,  60,   124, 

177,  180,  347,  354,  355,  485  ;  iii.  29,  85,  86,  103, 

145,  367,  379,  450,  475,  485,  489. 
-----  his  independence,  i.  346. 
-----  his  superstition,  i.  378. 
his  awful  fear  of  death,  i.  457,  468,  483  ;  ii.  134,  404  ; 

iii.  16,  365,  373,  389. 


S2t-i'  INDEX. 

JoHNSON)  his  general  tenderness  of  nature,  humanity,  and  affability, 
i.  68,  187,  216,  226,  320,  326,  351,  414,  423,  440, 
470;  ii.  118,  137,  153,  267,340,384,393,431,466.; 
iii.  25,  250,  290,  367,  376,  406,  407,  424,  471. 

-  .  -  .  .  his  warm  and  sometime   violent  manner,  i.  193,  448,  468> 

482  ;  ii.  295,  432,  506  ;  iii.   12,  32,  50,  57,  88,  231, 
283,  369,  417. 
his  placability,  i.  470  ;  ii.  506. 

-  -  -  .  -  his  charity,  i.  479. 

his  occasional  jocularity,  i.  159,  213,  312,  334,  447,  462; 

ii.  100,  182,  194,  259,  269,  406, 412  ;  iii.  86, 161, 207. 

his  invariable  regard   to  truth,  i.    123,  199,  278,  341  ;  ii. 

243,  471,  481  ;  iii.  15,  178,  394. 

,_  ...  his  love  of  little  children,  iii.  301. 

-----  his  kindness  to  his  servants,  ii.  350  ;  iii.  301. 

-----  his  fondness  for  animals  which  he  had  taken  under  his  pro- 
tection, iii.  302. 

.  .  -  .  -  his  bow  to  an  Archbishop,  iii.  302. 

-  -  -  -  -  his  laugh,  ii.  194. 

-----  his  engaging  to  write  the  history  of  the  Authour's  family, 

iii.  303. 
-----  his  respect  to   birth  and  family,  i.  349  ;  ii.  11,  31,  100, 

156  ;  iii.  64,  270. 

his  love  of  good  eating,  i.  365  ;  ii.  331,  434  ;  iii.  8,  377. 

-----  his  political  character  and  opinions,  i.  36,  243,  332,  337» 

4S6,  477,  481,  485  ;  ii.  15,  25,  45,  65,  149,  175, 176, 

187,  312,  409,  450  ;  iii.  6,  31,  40,  66,  208,  235,  256, 

278. 
his  pamphlets,  i.  115,   116,  472,  492,  493  ;  ii.   6,   121, 

146,  147,  148.      For  his   other  ivorks  see  their  different 

titles,  and  see  iii.  484. 
.  «...  his  general  character  summed  up  by  the   authour,  iii.  496. 

catalogue  of  his  Works,  i.  17,  18,  19,  20,  21,  22. 

-----  catalogue  of  works  proposed  to  be  executed  by  him,  iii. 

460,  461  ;  see  iii.  333,  334. 
.  .  _  -  -  stories   to   his  prejudice  refuted,  ii.  441  ;  iii.  281.     See 

Haivkins  and  Piozzi. 
.  -  .  _  -  various  portraits  of  him,  iii.  493,  494. 
*  Johnsoniana,'  the  collection  so  called,  ii.  244. 
Johnston,  Sir  James,  iii.  375. 
Jones,  Miss,  i.  253. 

-  -  -  Sir  William,  i.  485  ;  iii.  90. 
Jorden,  Mr.  i.  53,  54. 

Journal,  or  diary  of  Hfe,  its  utility,  i.  263,  339  ;  ii.  63,  173,  421, 

461,  469,  496  ;  iii.  287. 
Judges,  ii.  167. 
Junius,  i.  493  ;  iii.  83. 
Juries,  ii.  289. 
Justitia  hulk,  an  inadequate  punishment,  ii.  502. 


^IftJDEX,  523 


K. 


it  ought  to  be  retained  in  the  words  publtci,  musici,  crUickt  &c.  iii. 

165. 
Karnes,  Lord,  ii.  51. 

-  -  -  -  his  '  Elements  of  Criticism,'  i.  455. 

-  -  -  -  his  *  Sketches  of  the  History  of  Man,'  ii.  485  ;  iii.  S3,  63. 
Kelly,  Hugh,  Johnson's  prologue  to  his  '  Word  to  the  Wise,'  ii.  370. 

-  -    -  curious  anecdote  of,  iii.  483. 
Kemble,  J.  P.  Esq.  iii.  339. 

Kempis,  Thomas  a,  ii.  468  ;  iii.  157,  373. 

Ken,  Bishop,  ii.  420,  n. 

Kennedy,  Rev.  Dr.  his  *  Astronomical  Chronology,'  i.  288. 

-  -  -  -  M.  D.  A  singular  Tragedy  by,  ii.  478. 
Kennicot,  Mrs.  iii.  378,  380. 

Rev.  Dr.  i.  486. 

Kenrick,  Dr.  i.  388,  436. 

Killaloe,  Bishop  of.  See  Barnard. 

Killingley,  Mrs.  her  curious  address  to  the  authour,  ii.  451. 

Kindness,  actual,  always  in  our  povper,  though  fondness  not,  iii.  276. 

King,  Rev.  Dr.  of  St.  Mary  Hall,  i.  220,  260,  274. 

-  -  -    (Dissenting  Minister,)  iii.  11. 

King  Charles,  I.  II.  James  II.  George  I.  II.  III.  and  William  IIL 

see  their  respective  initials. 
Kings,  their  situations,  i.  332,  345  j  ii.  25,  187- 
Kippis,  Dr.  ii.  425. 

Kneller,  Sir  Godfrey,  anecdote  of,  ii.  477. 
Knowledge,  ii.  25,  40,  66,  181,  188,  189,  305  ;  iii.  320. 
......  the  desire  of,  natural  to  man,  i.  357. 

......  however  minute  or  inconsiderable,  of  some  value;  ii.  178« 

255,  256. 
Knowles,  Mrs.  iii.  7,8,  18,  19. 
Knox,  Mr.  (the  traveller,)  ii.  138. 

-  -  -  -  Rev.  Vicissimus,  iii.  413. 

-  -  -  -  his  imitation  of  Johnson's  style,  iii.  469,  470. 

L. 

Landlords  and  tenants,  i.  97  ;  ii.  487  ;  iii.  278. 

Langton,  Bennet,  Esq.  i.  193,  250,  259  ;  ii.  39,  496  ;  iii.  6'9,48g. 

.....  Johnson's  high  praise  of  his  moral  character,  ii.  414  ;  iii. 

374. 
Johnson's  letters  to,  i.  228,  254,  262,  263,  281,  399,401, 

424,  493  ;  ii.  5,  117, 181,  380 ;  iii.  73,  338,  362,431, 

441. 

-  -  »  -  .  his  *  Johnsoniana,' iii.  142 — 166. 
.....  Miss  Jane,  Johnson's  letter  to,  iii.  367. 

.  -  -  .  .  Peregrine,  Esq.  account  of  his  admirable  and  genteel  eeofc 
omy,  i.  401,  402,  40,3. 


524  INDEX. 

Languages,  i.  372,  411,  449  ;  ii.  15,  40,  476. ;  iii.  402. 

Landsdown,  Marquis  of,  iii.  298. 

Xiutin,  Johnson's  accurate  knowledge  of,  ii.  219. 

-  -  -     poetry,  modern,  ii.  188. 
La  Trobe,  Rev.  Mr.  iii.  485. 

Lauder,  William,  his  forgery  against  Milton,  i.  182,  183. 
Laughter,  the  various  modes   of,  indicate  what  kind  of  company  the 

laugher  has  kept,  i.  350. 
Laughers,  the  use  of  sometimes  living  with  them,  iii.  292. 
Law,  Johnson's  intention  of  studying,  i.  382. 

-  -  -  his  instructor,  Mr.  Ballow,  authour  of  *  Treatise  on  Equity,'  ii. 

294. 

-  -  -  his  opinion  as  to  the  study  and  practice  of,  i.  395,  405,  446  ; 

ii.  45,  65,  429  ;  iii.  398. 
Law,  arguments  on  several  cases,  viz. 

-  -  -  on  Schoolmasters  and  their  duty,  ii.  35,  36,  37. 

-  -  -  vicious  intromission,  ii.  358. 

-  -  -  rights  of  lay-patrons,  ii.  83. 
Dr.  Memis's  case,  ii.  189,  190. 

-  -  -  Stirling  Corporation's  case,  ii,  191. 

-  -  -  entails,  ii.  241. 

.  -  -  liberty  of  the  Pulpit,  ii.  320,  349- 

-  -  -  registration  of  Deeds,  iii    202. 

-  -  -  case  of  the  Procurators  of  Edinburgh,  iii.  245. 
Laiv,  Archdeacon,  (now  Bishop  of  Elphin,)  iii.  11/5. 
Law's  '  Serious  Call,'  i.  59,  483. 

Lawrence,  Dr.  i.  68  ;  iii.  260. 

-  ■   -  -  -    letters  to,  ii.  131  ;  iii.  118. 
Lea,  Rev.  Samuel,  i.  45. 
Learning,  i.  356  ;  ii.  40. 

Lectures,  their  inutility,  i.  393  ;  iii.  216. 
Lee,  Arthur,  Esq.  ii.  331. 

John,  Esq.  (the  late  Barrister,)  ii.  467. 

Leeds,  Duke  of,  iii.  151. 

Leland,  Rev.  Dr.  Thomas,  i.  381. 

Lenox,  Mrs.  Charlotte,  i.  273,  289  ;  ii.  125;  iii.  148. 

Lesley,  Charles,  iii.  379,  n. 

Leverian  Museum,  iii.  416. 

Levet,  Mr.  Robert,  i.  192,  194,  341  ;  ii.  199  ;  iii.  254,  331. 

-  -  -  -  Johnson's  letters  to,  ii.  118,  199,  350- 

-  -  -  -  his  death,  iii.  254. 

-  -  -  -  Johnson's  Elegiack  verses  on  him,  iii.  255. 
Lewis,  the  Rev.  Francis,  i.  180. 

-  -  -  -  David,  his  lines  to  Pope,  iii.  395. 
Lexiphanes,  i.  424. 

-.-...    letter  from,  iii.  466. 

Libels  on  the  Dead,  and  the  general  doctrine  of,  ii.  288,  289.     See 

Topha?n's  case. 
Libel  Bill,  the  late,  superfluous,  ii.  289- 
Liberty,  political  and  private,  i.  436. 


INDEX.  525 

Liberty,  subordination  and  order  necessary  to  the  enjoyment  of  true 

liberty,  iii.  88. 
Liberty  and  necessity  of  the  will,  i,  451,  465  ;  iii.  13,  199. 
Lichfield,  remarks  on,  ii.  268,  269,  270. 

Johnson's  last  visit  to,  iii,  452. 

Liddel,  Sir  Henry,  his  spirited  expedition  to  Lapland,  ii.  23,  «. 
Life,  reflections   on,  i.  484,  488  ;  ii.    70,  316,  319,  415,  445  ;  iii. 

390,  412. 

-  -  -  should  be  thrown  into  method,  that  every  hour  may  bring  em- 

ployment, ii.  351. 
Line,  the  improper  use  of  that  word,  ii,  443. 
Literary  Club,  i.  473  ;  ii.  149,  372  ;  iii.  4,  292,  293,  410. 
.-.-   -....  Johnson's  high  opinion  of  it,  iii.  285, 
Literary  frauds,  i.  199. — Instances  of,  i,  283,  284  ;  iii.  482. 

-  -  -  .    property,  i.  209,  342,  343  ;  ii.  98,  110,  169  ;  iii.  463. 

-  -  -  -    men,  the  written  accounts  of  their  lives  may  be  made  as  en- 

tertaining as  those  of  any  other  class,  iii.  221. 
Literature,  state  of,  i.  237. 
'  Lives  of  the  EngHsh  Poets,'  Johnson's,  ii.  364,  366,  367,  393. 

published,  iii.  78,  167,  269. 

-._-....-__....  critique  on,  and  account  of,  iii.  169 — 

■    192,  378. 
Lloyd,  Mr    (the  Quaker,)  ii.  262. 
Lobo's  Abyssinia,  i,  71  ;  ii.  283. 
Lock,  William,  Esq.  (of  Norbury  Park,)  iii.  174. 
Locke,  his  plan  of  Education  imperfect,  iii.  67,  68. 
Lockman,  Mr.  John,  iii,  145. 
LofFt,  Capel,  Esq.  iii,  372. 
Lombe's  silk  mill,  at  Derby,  ii.  416. 
London,  its  immensity,  i.  330  ;  ii.  177  ;  iii.  305. 

-  -  -  .   its  superiority   over  the  country,  i.  445,  480  ;  ii.  281,  427» 

438,  454. 

-  -  -  -    Johnson's,  and  the  authour's  love  of/  i.  250,  359  ;  ii.  112, 

281,  427  ;  iii.  438. 

-  -  -  -    art  of  living  in,  i.  85. 

. Johnson's  poem  of,  i.  97,  98,  102,  103,  107,  108,  154. 

Chronicle,  i.  249,  464. 

Long,  Dudley,  Esq.  See  North. 

Longley,  Mr.  of  Rochester,  iii.  147- 
Lort,  Rev.  Dr.  iii.  383,  n. 
Loudoun,  Countess  of,  iii.  74, 
Lovat,  Lord,  anecdotes  of,  and  epigram  on,  i.  146i 
Love,  i.  482  ;  ii.  104,  ISO,  265.     See  Marriage. 
Loveday,  Dr.  John,  ii.  98,  n. 
Loughborough,  Lord,  i.  304. 
Lowe,  (Johnson's  school-fellow,)  i.  41. 

...    Mr,  Mauritius,  the  painter,  iii.  305,  306,  307,  312,  313,  479- 
Lowth,  Robert,  Bishop  of  London,  i.  419. 
Loyalty,  iii.  282. 
Lucan,  Lord,  iii,  211,  410. 
VOL.  in.  67 


52b-  INDEX 

Lucan,  Lady,  iii.  410. 

'  Luke's  iron  crown.'     See  Zeck, 

Lumisden,  Andrew,  Esq.  ii.  216. 

Luton  Hoe,  Lord  Bute's  seat  at,  iii.  S**. 

Luxury  and  extravagance,  ii.  24,  64,  318  ;  iii.  5,  6,  61. 

Lydiat,  Thomas,  i.  155. 

Lyttelton,  George,  Lord,  his  works,  i.  420,  485  ;  ii.  66,  3021 

....  -  Johnson's  Life  of,  iii.  186. 

-----  Thomas,  Lord,  his  vision,  iii.  388. 

M. 

Macartney,  George,  Earl  of,  i.  12  ;  ii.  294,  478,  482  ;  iii.  189. 
Macaulay,    Mrs.    Johnson's  acute  and  unanswerable  refutation  of  her 

levelling  reveries  ;  his  opinion  of  her  and  her  works,  i.  349,  380; 

ii.  65,  338,  433. 
_  .  .  -  .  Rev.  Mr.  Kenneth,   his  account  of  Saint  Kilda,  i.  429  ; 

ii    9. 
Macbean,  Mr.  ii.  297  ;  iii.  139. 

-  .  _  .  .  his  Dictionary  of  Geography,  ii.  53. 
Macbeth,  Johnson's  '  Observations  on,'  i.  143. 
Macaronick  Verses,  iii.  3. 

Macclesfield,  Lady,  i.  138,  &c.       See  Savage. 

M  Donald,  Sir  James,  i.  350. 

----..  Sir  Alexander,  (now  Lord,)  ii.  15. 

- Lady  Margaret,  iii.   87. 

Mackhn,  Charles,  the  Actor,  i.  304. 

Maclaurin,  Mr.  ii.  183,  357. 

Maclean,  Sir  Allan,  ii.  357. 

.  .  -  •   -  Mr.  Alexander,  ii.  219. 

Macpherson,  James,  Esq.  ii.  130,  132,  133,  134. 

.......  Johnson's  letter  to  him,  ii.  133. 

Macquarry,  ii.  357,  390. 
Macqueen,  Rev.  Mr.  Donald,  ii.  197. 

Madden,  the  Rev.  Dr.   the  first  proposer  of  premiums  in   Trinity 
College,  DubHn,i.  241,  «. 

-  -  -  -  his  *  Boulter's  Monument,'  i.  241. 

-  -  -  -  his  rule  for  planting  an  orchard,  iii.  309. 
Madness,  i.  312  ;  ii.  426. 

Mahogany,  a  liquor  so  called,  iii.  206. 
Mallet,  David,  i.  487;  iii.  90,  319. 

-  -  -  -  his  Life  of  Bacon,  ii.  441. 

-  -  -  -  his  Tragedy  of  '  Elvira,'  i.  320. 

Malone,   Edmond,    Esq.  i.   8,    177,  180,   317,  323  ;  ii.  273,  314, 
317  ;  iii.  24,  38,  95,  173,  ISO,  181,  250,  491,  495. 

-  -  -  -  Johnson's  letters  to,  iii.  257- 

Man  in  all  states  must  govern  woman,  from  superiority  of  understands 

ing,  ii,  315,  316. 
«  Man  of  Feeling,'  (a  Novel,)  i.  284. 
Mandeville's  '  Fable  of  the  Bees,'  criticised,  iii.  14. 


INDEX.  sir 

Manly  Beauty,  described  by  Shakspeare  and  Milton,  iii.  201 . 
Manners,  works  describing  them  require   notes  in   sixty  or  seventy 

years,  ii.  59. 
Manning,  Mr.  (the  Compositor,)  iii.  ^OG,  407- 
Mansfield,  Lord,  ii.  15,  44,  150,  500  ;  iii.  126,  288. 
Manucci,  Count,  ii.  205,  347- 
Maps,  ii.  177. 

Ma'-chmount,  Earl  of,  ii.  17  ;  iii.  55,  94,  180. 
Marlborough,  Duke  of,  i.  11. 

Duchess  of,  i.  124  ;  iii.  207. 

Marmor  Norfolciense,  i.  116. 

Marriage,  i.  432,  446,  471,  487  ;  ii.  21,  261,  262,  291,  296  ;  iii- 

83,  248,  383. 
Marriage,  second,  i.  446,  487. 

Bill,  Royal,  ii.  11. 

-----    *  Matrimonial  Thought,'  a  song,  i.  472. 

Marsili,  Dr.  i.  252. 

Martinelli's  History  of  England,  ii.  66. 

Mary,  Queen  of  Scots,  i.  278  ;  ii.  107- 

Matter,  Berkley's  notion  of  its  non-existence,  controverted,  i.  368.. 

Mash,  Rev.  Dr.  his  '  History  of  Worcestershire,'  ii.  505. 

Mason,  Rev.  William,  i.  28,  30,  ii.  162,  301  ;  iii.  15,  402. 

Masquerades,  ii.  54. 

Masters,  Mrs.  i.  191  ;  iii.  343. 

Mattaire,  iii.  143. 

Maupertuis,  i.  431. 

Maxwell,  Rev.  Dr.  his  anecdotes  of  Johnson,  i,  476,491. 

Mayo,  Rev.  Dr.  ii.  92,  93  ;  iii.  7,  9. 

Meeke,  Mr,  i.  212. 

Mead,  Dr.  iii.  65. 

Melancholy,  constitutional,  reflections  on,  i.  55,  271  ;  ii.  235,  249, 
345,  354,  392,  426,  439  ;  iii.  498. 

Melancthon,  ii.  374,  378,  n. 

Melmoth,  WiUiam,  Esq.  iii.  121,  123. 

-----  his  Letters,  under  the  name  of  Fitzosbonie,  iii.  123,  368,  «. 

Memis,  Dr.  ii.  127,  133,  189,  353,  357. 

Menagiana,  iii.  53. 

Merchant,  a  new  species  of  gentleman,  i.  384. 

Metaphysicks,  i.  451,  465. 

Metcalfe,  Philip,  Esq.  iii.  274. 

Methodists,  i.  357,  485  ;  iii.  413. 

Meynell,  Hugo,  Esq.  his  happy  expressions  concerning  London,  iii. 
84. 

Mickle,  William  Julius,  ii.  34  ;  iii.  396. 
-  -  his  '  Lusiad,'  iii.  347. 

Middle  state  of  souls,  i.  467  ;  ii.  19. 

Millar,  Andrew,  i.  227. 

Miller,  Lady,  ii.  163. 

M^lne,  Mr.  the  Architect,  defended,  i.  276. 

Milner,  Rev.  Mr.  his  defence  of  the  Methodists,  i.  357,  «• 


528  INDEX. 

Milton,  his  grand  daughter,  i.  181,  182. 

-  -  -  -  Johnson's  Life  of,  iii.  173,  ^  seq.  seei.  181,  £3*  teq.  iii.  393. 
....  more  thinking  in  him  and  Butler,  than  in  any  of  the  English 

Poets, 

-  -  -  -  his  plan  of  education  impracticable,  iii.  67. 
Mimickry,  ii.  12. 

Miracles,  in  proof  of  the  Christian  religion,  supported  by  the  strong- 
est evidence,  i.  34'7. 

*  Mirror,  the,'  a  periodical  paper,  iii.  469. 

*  Modern  Characters  from  Shakspeare,'  ii.  492. 
Monasteries,  i.  2cS7  ;  ii,  246. 

Monboddo,  Lord,  and  his  works,  i.  445  ;  ii.  7>   65,  197  ;  iii.  243« 

368. 
Monckton,  Hon.  Miss,  (now  Countess  of  Cork,)  iii.  229. 
------  the  autliour's  verses  to,  iii.  230. 

Monro,  Dr.  iii.  359. 

Montagu,  Mrs.  her  '  Essay  on  Shakspeare,'  i.  444. 

anecdotes  of,  ii.  482  ;  iii.  201,  370. 

Montrose,  the  late  Duke  of,  ii.  480  ;  iii.  229. 

Monuments  in  St.  Paul's  Church,  ii.  80. 

Moody,  Mr.  the  actor,  ii.  165. 

Moor,  Dr.  (Greek  Professor  at  Glasgow,)  ii.  306,  a. 

More,  Dr.  Henry,  ii.  18. 

-  -  .  Miss  Hannah,  ii.  493  ;  iii.  219,  222,  229,  370,  393. 
Morris,  Miss,  Johnson  s  last  words  spoken  to  her,  iii.  490. 
Mounsey,  Dr.  of  Chelsea,  his  character,  i.  438. 

Mountstuart,  Lord,  (now  Marquis  of  Bute,)  i.  404  ;  ii.  242,  349  ; 

iii.  Ill,  244. 
'  Mourning  Bride,'  description  of  the   temple    in   that  play,  highly 

commended,  i.  452. 
Mudge,  Rev.  Mr.  Zachariah,  i.  297  ;  iii.  204. 

-  -  -   -  Dr.  i.  297. 

Murphy,  Arthur,  Esq.  i.  256,  279,  307,  486. 

-  .  .  _  his  '  Poetical  Epistle  to  Johnson,'  i.  279. 
Murray,  Mr.  Solicitor  General  of  Scotland,  ii.  284. 
Musgrave,  Sir  William,  i.  124. 

.  .  _  -  .  Dr.    Samuel,  iii.  34. 
Musick,  ii.  70,  221,  444  ;  iii.  157. 

Myddleton,    Colonel,  his  urn   and  inscription  in  honour  of  Johnson, 
iii.  493. 

N. 

Nares,   Rev.  John,    his  '  Elements  of  Orthoepy,'   and  imitation  of 

Johnson's  style,  iii.  468.  ^ 

Nash,  Beau,  Dedication,  i.  5. 
National  Debt,  i.  486. 

Natural  affection  from  parents  to  children  instinctive  ;  not  vice  versa, 
i.    463. 

-  -  -  -  the  reasons  assigned,  iii.  93. 


Negroes,  ii.  346,  353,  357,  385,  446. 

-  -  -  -    Johnson's  arguments  in  favour  of  one,  ii.  447,  455- 
Nelson's  *  Festivals  and  Fasts,'  ii.  263. 

Newhaven,  Lord,  iii.  108. 

Newton,  Sir  Isaac,  Johnson's  praise  of,  i.  354,  485. 

....   Dr.  Thomas,  (late  Bishop  of  Bristol,)  iii.  378. 

Nichols,  Dr.  Johnson's  review  of  his   Discourse  de  Anima  Medica 

undiscovered,  ii.  416. 
...  -  Mr.  John,  iii.  169,  275,  449. 

-  -  -  -  his  communications  as  to  Johnson,  iii.  483. 
Nicol,  Mr.  George,  Johnson's  letter  to,  iii.  445. 

Nil  admirari,  the  propriety  of  that  maxim  discussed,  ii.  180. 
NoUekens,  Mr.  ii.  462. 
Nonjurors,  ii.  152  ;  iii.  379. 
North,  Dudley,  Esq.  iii.  202,  208. 

-  -  -    Lord,    his   Lordship's  letters  as  Chancellor  of  the  University 

of  Oxford,   to   the   Vice-Chancellor,  in  favour  of  Johnson, 

ii.  159. 
Northumberland,  Elizabeth,  Duchess  of,  ii.  505. 

Hugh,  Duke  of,  ii.  490. 

Norton,  Sir  Fletcher,  i.  456  ;  ii.  275. 

Nowell,  Rev.  Dr.  iii.  386,  387. 

Nti|  y«g  i^x^rcii,  the  motto  on  Johnson's  watch,  i.  43S. 

O. 

O'Connor,  Charles,  Esq.   the  Irish  antiquarian,  Johnson's  letters  to, 

i.  251  ;  ii.  368. 
-----    account  of,  ii.  368,  n. 
Ode  to  Friendship,  i.  129. 

-  -  on  Winter,  i.  144. 

Odes  by  Cumberland,  ii.  310. 

Ogilvie,  Dr.  John,  i.  330,  331. 

Oglethorpe,   General,   anecdotes  of,   i.   104  ;  ii.  33,  173,  .^18  ;  iii. 

5,  282. 
Old  age,  ii.  491  ;  iii.  49,  50. 
Oldfield,  Dr.  anecdote  of,  ii.  319. 
Oldham's  imitation  of  Juvenal,  i.  97- 

Oldys,  William,  his  part  in  the  Harleian  Miscellany,  i.  142. 
Oldmixon,  John,  i.  234,  n. 
Oliver,  Dame,  Johnson's  school-mistress,  i.  40. 
'  011a  Podrida,'  iii.  497,  n. 
Omai,  ii.  284. 

Oratory,  ii.  59,  155  ;  iii.  225,  403. 
Orford,  Lord,  his  gallery  of  pictures,  iii.  416. 
Orme,  Mr.  the  Historian,  ii.  135  ;  iii.  7. 

-  -  -  Captain,  iii.  212. 

Orrery,  John,  the  fifth  Earl  of,  i.  150,  487  ;  ii.  31,  285. 

-  -  -  -  his  Life  of  Swift,  ii.  487. 
Osborn,  Francis,  his  works,  ii.  43. 


530  INDEX. 

Osborne,  Thomas,  the  bookseller,  i.  125. 

Ossian,  Poems  of,  their  merit  and  authenticity  discussed,  i.  311^ 
485  ;  ii.  130,  133,  134,  143,  144,  314  ;  iii.  292,  348,  349. 

Ostentation,  i.  364,  433  ;  ii.  312  ;  iii.  145,  292. 

*  Othello,'  its  useful  moral,  ii.  307. 

-----  the  drunken  dialogue  in  that  play  the  most  excellent  of 
its  kind,  ii.  308. 

-  -  .  —  the  doctrine  in  that  play '  he  that  is  robb'd,'  &c.  con- 
troverted, iii.  59. 

Otway,  iii.  156. 

Oxford  University,  highly  praised,  i.  429. 


Palmer,  the  Rev.  Thomas  Fysche.  iii.  242. 

-  -   -  the  Rev.  John,  his  Answer  to  Dr.  Priestley,  on  Philosophic^ 

al  necessity,  iii.  13,  n. 
Palmerston,  Henry,  the  second  Viscount,  i.  275  ;  iii.  10. 
Pamphlets,  iii.  35. 
Panting,  Dr.  i.  62. 
Paoli,   General,  i.  443,  449  ;  ii.   21,  66,  69,  303,  408  ;  iii.  39, 

413. 
Paradise,  John,  Esq.  iii.  90. 

-  -   -   -   character  of,  and  Johnson's  letter  to,  iii.  444i. 
Parentheses,  disapproved  of  by  Johnson,  iii.  297* 
Parish  Clerks,  iii.  243. 

Parker,  Mr.  Sackville,  iii.  396. 
Parnell,  Dr.  Goldsmith's  Life  of,  ii.  22. 

-  -    -   Johnson's  Life  of,  and  Epitaph  on,  iii.  183. 

-  -    -   a  disputed  passage  in  one  of  his  poems,  iii.  95. 
Parr,  Rev.  Dr.  iii.   152,  336,  495. 

Parson,  the  life  of  a  conscientious  one,  not  an  easy  life,  iii.  23. 

Passion  Week,  ii.  40. 

Paterson,  Mr.  Samuel,  ii.  28,  348. 

his  son,  ii.  348  ;  iii.  326,  364. 

'  The  Patriot,'   a  tragedy  by    Mr.    Joseph  Simpson,   found  among 

Johnson's  papers,  and  falsely  imputed  to  him,  ii.  299. 
Patriotism,  ii.  171. 
Patten,  Dr.  iii.  276. 

Pearce,  Dr.  Zachary,  Bishop  of  Rochester,  i.  233  ;  ii.  369. 
Peers,  House  of,   ought   generally   to   exercise  the  judicial  power, 
iii.  57,  58. 

-  -  -  of  Scotland,  and  their  undue  influence,  iii.  345. 

Pelham,  Right  Hon.  Henry,  Garrick's  Ode  on  his  Death,  i.  210. 
Pembroke  College,  Oxford,  eminent  men  of,  i.  64. 

-  —  -  -  Henry,  late  Earl  of,  ii.  155,  n. 
Pennant's  '  Tour,'  ii.  505,  506. 

-  -    -  -   '  London,'  ii.  507. 

Pension,  Johnson's,  i.  294.  See  Johtisoth. 

Pepys,  William  Weller,  Esq.  iii.  209. 


INDEX.  531 

Percy,  Dr.  (Bishop  of  Dromore,)  i.  44,  45,  62,  116,  153,376, 
379,  437,  494  ;  ii.  259,  260,  504,  505,  506,  510  ;  iii.  74, 
117,  120,  134. 

-  -  -  letters  on  a  difference  between  Johnson  and  him,  ii.  510,  511. 

-  -  -  proved  to   be  the  heir  male  of  the  ancient  Earls  of  Northum- 

berland, ii.  505. 
Perkins,  Mr.  successor  to  Mr.  Thrale,  iii.  207,  210. 

-  -  -  -  letters  from  Johnson  to,  ii.  122  ;  iii.  236,  268,  443. 
Peters,  Mr.  Dr.  Taylor's  upper  servant,  ii.  277- 
Peterborough,  Earl  of,  iii.  415. 

Petitions,  popular,  to  distress  Government,  easily  obtained,  i.  455. 

Peyton,  Mr.  i.  151  ;  ii.  13. 

Phcean,  contrasted  with  Mr.  Fox,  ii.  501. 

Phillips,  the  musician,  Johnson's  Epitaph  on,  i.  121. 

Philips,  the  Poet,  Johnson's  Life  of,  iii.  185. 

-  -    -   Miss,  the  singer,  now  Mrs.  Crouch.      See  Crouch. 
"Oi  (piXot,  »  vp<A«r,  i.  165  ;   iii.  12,  90. 

Philosophers,  ancient,  their  good  humour  with  each  other  in  disputa- 
tion, accounted  for,  ii.  285. 
Philosophy,  iii.  24. 
Pieresc,  ii.  189. 
Pig,  the  learned,  iii.  453. 
Pindar,  West's  translation  of,  iii.  162. 
Piozzi,  Mrs.  i.  385  ;  ii.  240,  382  ;  iii.  32,  208,  209,  273,  371. 

-  -  -  anecdotes  of  Johnson,  related  by  her,  corrected  or  explained, 

i.  37,  59,  76,  325,  375  ;  ii.  39,  44,   172 ;  iii.   404,  421, 
427. 

-  -   -  letter  from  her  to  Johnson,  iii.  121. 

-  -  -   letter  from  Johnson  to  her,  iii.  123,  327. 

-  -   -  burlesque  ode  to  her,  iii.  466. 

Pitt,  Right  Hon.  WiUiam,  Earl  of  Chatham,  ii.  45  ;  iii.  66,  403. 

-  -    Right  Hon.  William,  his  letter  to  the  authour,  on  his  exertions 

for  Government,  iii.  356. 
Pity,  not  natural  to  man,  i.  341. 
Planta,  Mr.  ii.  214,  n. 
Planting  trees,  ii.  359,  451. 
Plaxton,  Rev,  George,  i.  34. 

Players, Porter,  Clive,  Pritchard,  ii.  340. 

Plymouth,  Johnson's  visit  to,  i.  297,  298. 

Pococke,  Edward,  the  Orientalist,  ii.  502  ;  iii.  162. 

Poetiy,  reflections  on,  ii.  173,  306,  307,  411,  493. 

-  -  -    not  definable,  ii.  306. 

-  -   -    the  cause  of  languages  being  preserved,  ii.  304. — The  beau- 

ties not  translatable,  ibid. 

-  -   -    of  Johnson,  while  young,  i.  38,  45,  <y  seq.  76. 
Poets,  Johnson's  Lives  of.      See  Lives. 

Politian's  Poems,  Johnson's  projected  edition  of,  i.  64. 
Poor,  in    England,  better  provided  for  than  in  any  other  country, 
i.  489. 


5S2  INDEX. 

Pope,  i.  104,   107,  108,  116,  392  ;  ii.  173,  477  ;  iii.  58,  94,  394, 

395. 

-  -  -  compared  with  Dryden,  i.  392. 

-  -  -  Lady  Bolingbroke's  description  of,  iii.  39. 
...  his  Life,  by  Ruffhead,  ii.  22. 

-  -  -  Johnson's  translation  of  his  ♦  Messiah,'  i.  54. 

-  -  -  his  *  Homer,'  ii.  493. 

-  -  -  his  ♦  Universal  Prayer,'  iii.  58. 

-  -  -  his  ♦  Essay  on  Man,'  iii.  103,  104. 

-  -  -  his  Epitaphs,  i.  241. 

-  -  -  Johnson's  Life  of,  iii.  176. 

...  Dr.  Walter,  his  '  Old  Man's  Wish,'  iii.  155. 
Porter,  Mrs.  (afterwards  Johnson's  w  fe,)  i.  77,  78. 

-  -  -  Miss  Lucy,  i.  77  ;  ii.  266  ;  iii.  112. 

-  -  -  Johnson's  letters  to,  ii.   202  ;  iii.   96,   214,  258,  259,  3S6i 

352,  356,  472. 

-  -    -   Mrs.  the  Actress,  iii.  340. 

Porteus,  Dr.  Beilby,  Lord  Bishop  of  London,  iii.  3,  4,  113,  204. 

Portmore,  Earl  of,  iii.  363. 

Praise  from  those  we  love,  delightful,  i.  167. 

Prayer,  i.  466  ;  ii.  27  ;  iii.  385,  456. 

Prayer  for  the  dead,  i.  467  ;  ii.  19. 

Prayers   and  Meditations,  Johnson's,  iii.   456.      His  extraordinary 

prayer  for  his  departed  wife,  i.  186. 
Preaching  of  the  estabhshed  Clergy,  i.  357,  483. 
-.._-.    Female  Quakers,  i.  361. 

*  Preceptor,'  Dodsley's,  i.  158. 
Predestination,  i.  465.      See  Liberty  and  Necessity. 
Prendergast,  Mr.  remarkable  anecdote  of,  ii.  35. 
Presentiment,  a  remarkable  story  concerning,  ii.  34. 
Presbyterians,  i.  465. 

Price,  Dr.  iii.  336,  «. 

Priestley,  Dr.  Johnson's  opinion  of,  i.  483  }  iii.  335,  336. 

Prince  of  Wales,  his  happiness,  iii.  292. 

Pringle,  Sir  John,  ii.  327,  426,  485. 

Printing,  i.  304. 

-  -  -  -    ancient,  ii.  214. 
Prior's  poetry,  i.  448  ;  ii.  439. 
Pritchard,  Mrs.  ii.  172  ;  iii.  340. 
Probationer,  ii.  26. 

Procurators  of  Edinburgh,  their  case,  iii.  245. 
Professions,  some  objections  to  all,  i.  487- 

*  Pioject,'  the,  a  poem,  iii.  34. 
Pronunciation,  ii.  16,  17,  443. 
Prostitution,  i.  356  ;  ii.  290. 
Providence,  a  particular,  iii.  368. 

Prussia,  Frederick,  King  of,  his  writings,  i.  340. 
Psalmanazar,  George,  iii.  31,  295,  369. 
Psalms,  best  metrical  translations  of,  ii.  282. 
Publick  amusements  keep  people  from  vice,  ii.  24. 


INDEX.  53// 

Publick  speaking,  no  true  test  of  a  man's  powers,  ii.  164<  ;  iii.  289. 
Puns,  ii.  82  ;  iii.  38,  208,  402,  403. 

Q- 

Quakers,  ii.  362,  363  ;  iii.  18,  314,  315. 

-  -  -  -    of  their  women  preaching,  i.  361. 
Queensbury,  Charles,  late  Duke  of,  ii.  186. 
Quin,  James,  (the  actor,)  ii.  187. 
Quintilian,  iii.  168. 

Quotation,  classical,  the  parole  of  literary  men,  iii.  224. 
Quos  Deus  vult  perdere,  &c.  traced  to  its  source,  iii.  291. 

R. 

Rackstrow,  of  Fleet-street,    Johnson's  Colonel  in  the  Train  Bands, 

iii.  404. 
Radcliffe,  Rev.  Dr.  Master  of  Pembroke  College,  i.  212. 

-  -  -  -    John,  M.  D.  his  travelling  fellowship,  iii.  384. 
Ralph,  Mr.  James,  iii.  189,  n. 

*  Rambler,'  Johnson's,  published,  i.  160,  161,  162,  179. 

remarks  on,  i.  174  ;  ii.  309  ;  iii.  265,  371. 

.....    Shenstone's  criticism  on,  ii.  258,  259. 

Ramsay,  Allan,  Esq.  (Painter  to  his  Majesty,)  ii.  487  ;  iii.  45,  48, 

49,  447. 
Ranby,  John,  Esq.  ii.  449- 
Rank,  its  importance  in  society,  i.  345,  349  ;  ii.  11. 

*  Rasselas,'  Prince  of  Abyssinia,   Johnson's,   i.  74,  268,  269,  339  ; 

iii.  33,  237. 
-----    translated  into  four  languages,  ii.  57. 
-----    American  edition  of,  i.  56. 
Reading,  the   manner  and  effect  of,  i.  52,  70  ;  ii.  181,  309,  440  ; 

iii.  8,  46,  156,  320. 
Reed,  Isaac,  Esq.  iii.  169. 

*  Rehearsal,  the,'  Johnson's  opinion  of  that  Farce,  iii.  405. 
_--.-.--    criticisms  on,  ii.  24. 

Rein-deer,  project  for  introducing  them  into  England,  ii.  23. 
Relationship,   attachment  grounded  on,    diminished  by  commerce, 

ii.  30. 
Religion,  and  Religious  Establishments,  i.  59,  354,  465,  466,  46T  ; 
ii.  9,  10,  83,  246,  263,  276,  290  ;  iii.  18,  30,  31,  33, 
216,  241,  242,  317- 

-  -  -    -    Roman  Catholick  and  Presbyterian,  i.  465,  466,  467  ;  ii. 

96  ;  iii.  107,  381. 

-  -  -    -    that  he  who  does  not  feel  in  it,  is  far  from  the  kingdom  of 

heaven,  a  rash  doctrine,  iii.  52. 
Religious  Orders,  ii.  246. 

Republicans  wish  to  level  down  as  far  as  themselves,  but  cannot  bear 
to  level  up  to  themselves,  i.  349. 

*  Respublic£y   the  work  so  entitled,  ii.  316. 

VOL.  III.  68 


534  INDEX. 

Review,  Johnson's  plan  of  one,  i.  24-1. 

Reviews,  and  Reviewers,  i.  421  ;  ii.  301,  310  ;  iii.  187,  316. 

Revolution,  celebration  of,  iii.  282. 

Reynolds,  Sir  Joshua,  i.   3,  10,  192,  232,  258  ;  ii.  128,  140,  308, 

155,  402,  487,  488. 
,  -  _  -  .  his  Discourses,  iii.  77,  78,  406. 

-  _  _  -  .  his  even  and  placid  temper,  ii.  282. 

Johnson's  letters   to,  i.    379,   498  ;  ii.  3,  341,  348  ;  iii. 

250,  275,  326,  446. 
.  _  -  .  .  anecdotes  of  Johnson,  by  him,  i.  298,  470  ;  iii.  292. 
Rheumatism,  receipt  for, 
Rhyme,  i.  335  ;  ii.  493. 
Richardson,  Mr.    Samuel,   anecdotes  of,   i.  104,  119,  164,  457  ;  ii- 

432  ;  iii.  31,  163. 
.-.--.  compared  with  Fielding,  i.  427. 
.__--.   with  French  Nuvehsts,  i.  485. 
---_.-  nis  works,  ii.  28. 

Riches,  i.  344  ;  ii.  22,  499  ;  iii.  32,  243,  268,  285. 
Ridicule,  iii.  153. 

Riots  in  1780,  account  of,  i.  125,  126,  136. 
Rising  early,  ii.  419. 
Roberts,  Miss,  i.  337- 

Robertson,  Rev.  Dr.  William,  i.  413  ;  iii.  45,  47,  48. 
-----    his  first  introduction  to  Johnson,  iii.  45. 
-----    his  works,  i.  430  ;  ii.  78. 

-----    his  imitation  of  Johnson's  style,  ii.  424  ;  iii.  467« 
Robinson,  Sir  Thomas,  i.  240,  489. 
Rcjchester's  Poems,  ii.  439. 
Rolt,  Richard,  his  '  Dictionary  of  Trade  and  Commerce,'  i.  283. 

-  -  -  anecdotes  of,  i.  283. 
Romances,  i.  44. 

-----    reasons  for  reading  them,  iii.  153. 

Roscommon,  Life  of,  i.  1.53. 

Round  Robin,  Literary,  ii.  342. 

Rousseau,  i.  343,  396. 

Rowe,  Mrs.  her  works,  i.  215. 

Royal  Academy,  instituted,  i.  440. 

Rudd,  Mrs.  Margaret  Caroline,  ii.  339  ;  iii.  44. 

Ruddiman,  Mr.  Thomas,  i.  168. 

Ruff  head's  Life  of  Pope,  ii.  22. 

Russia,  Catharine,  Empress  of,  ii.  391,  n  ;  iii.  78. 

Ruttv,  Dr.  his  *  Spiritual  Diary,'  ii.  421. 

Ryland,  Mr.  i.  191. 

S. 

Sailors,  their  life,  ii.  247,  500  ;  iii.  347- 
Salam.ancha  University,  i.  354. 
Sanderson,  Bishop,  i.  175. 


INDEX.  S3.? 

Sapi,  Paoli,  his  Council  of  Trent,'  i.  110. 

-  -  -  -    -    his  Life,  by  Johnson,  i.  114. 
Savage,  Richard,  anecdotes  of,  i.  lOJ,  134. 

-    Johnson's  Life  of,  i.  132,  137. 

-  -    -    enquiry  as  to  his  birth,  i.  137. 

-  -    -    his  Tragedy  of  '  Sir  Thomas  Ovetbury,'  represented,  ii.  371. 
Savages,  ii.  313  ;  iii.  397. 

-  -  -  -   always  cruel,  i.  344. 
Searsdale,  Lord,  ii.  412- 

Schools,  Scottish,  do  not  make  critical  scholars,  ii.  26. 

Schoolmasters,  i.  80  ;  ii.  6. 

-.--...    law  cases  riespecting  them,  ii.  14,   35,  36,  37)  4:55, 

457. 
Scorpions,  curious  anecdote  concerning,  i.  431. 
Scotch,  their  pronunciation,  ii.  62. 

-  -    -    Lairds,  i.  321.      See  Laridlord  andTnant, 
Scotchmen,  their  steady  perseverance  to  obtain  an  object,  iii.  149. 

-  -        -    -  their  great  nationality,  iii    294. 

Scotland,  and  the  Scotch,  Johnson's  opinion  of,  and  bon  mots  on,  i, 
333,  351,  429,  447,  4-81  ;  ii.  83,  135,  139,  140,  141,  243, 
276,  421,  472,  481,  486  ;  iii.  110,  223,  294,  295. 

Scottish  Literature,  ii.  183. 

Scott,  Sir  Wilham,  i.  360,  467  ;  ii.  4:97  ;  iii.  215,  216. 

-  -  -  Mr.  of  Am  well,  ii.  174. 

-  -  -   George  Lewis,  Esq.  ii.  373. 
Scriptures,  the  Holy,  ii.  320. 

-----  Johnson's  letter   on   the  proposals  to  translate  them  into 

Erse,  i.  410. 
Scripture  phnises,  ii.  60. 
Seeker,  Archbishop,  i.  32  ;  iii.  163. 
Second  sight,  i.  395  ;  ii.  9. 
Seduction,  ii.  290  ;  iii.  475. 
Selected  works,  ii.  299,  469. 

Sem.l  Insan'tvimus  cmnes,  traced  to  its  source,  iii.  291  >  n. 
Sensibility,  i.  457  ;  ii.  274  ;  iii.  321. 
Sermons,  the  best  English,  ii.  485,  486. 
Servants,  ii.  63  ;  iii.  33. 
Seward,  Rev.  Mr.  ii.  271,  406  ;  iii.  112. 
Miss  Anna,  i.  38,  n  ;  ii.  271  ;  iii.  414. 

-  -  -  -  Wilham,  Esq.  ii.  378,  418  ;  iii.  256,  290,  302,  31?. 
Shakspeare,  compared  with  Congreve,  i.  452,  453  j  iii.  152. 
..-....-.--    with  Corneille,  iii.   152. 

with  Milton,  iii.  200,  201. 

--.-..  his  description  of  night,  in  '  Macbeth,'  faulty,  i.  45S. 
...   -  -  .  his  description  of  Dover  Cliffs,  faulty,  i.  453. 
------  his  Witches,  of  his  own  creation,  iii.  87. 

.-..-.  Johnson's  opinion  of,  iii.  87,  155,  160. 

Johnson's   edition  of  his   Plays,  i.    143,  250,  251,  282, 

376,  388,  474,  475  ;  ii.  53  ;  iii.  380. 
Johnson's  opinion  of  his  learning,  iii.  155. 


536  INDEX. 

Shakspeare,  remarks  on,  i.  387,  ^.SG  ;  ii.  42,  317  ;  iii.  152. 

See  Othello,  and  Mrs.   Montagu. 
......  the  second  folio  edition  of  his  Plays,  (1632)  adulterated 

in  every  page,  ii.  389,  n. 
Sharpe,  Rev.  Dr.  Gregors',  i.  488. 
Sharpe's  '  Letters  on  Italy,'  ii.  317. 
Shaw,  Cuthbert,  his  poem  of  '  The  Race,'  i.  415. 

-  -  -  Rev.  Mr.  his  Erse  Grammar,  ii.  362,  363. 

-  -  -  his  pamphlet  on  Ossian,  iii.  348. 

-  -  -  Dr.  Thomas,  (the  traveller,)  iii.  232. 
Shebbeare,  Dr.  iii.  232. 

Shenstonc,  his  verses  at  an  inn,  ii.  257- 
Sheridan,  Richard  Brinsley,  Esq.  ii.  371,  372. 

-  -  -  -  Thomas,  Esq.  i.  303,  304,  &c.  353,  453,  487  ;  ii.  17,  151, 

279  ;  iii.  83,  317,  322,  413. 

Mrs.  i.  305,  306. 

Shiels,  Mr.  Robert,  i.  151  ;  ii.  300. 

Shipley,  Dr.  Jonathan,  (late  Bishop  of  St.  Asaph,)  iii.  343. 

Short  Hand,  i.  69  ;  ii.  503. 

Shrewsbury,  ii.  43. 

Siam,  Embassy  from  the  King  of,  to  Louis  the  Fourteenth,  iii.  49. 

Siddons,  Mrs.  her  visit  to  Johnson,  iii.  339,  340. 

Sibbald,  Sir  Robert    M.  D.  ii.  470. 

Sidney,    Sir   Phihp,    his  receipt    to  preserve  a  wife's  chastity,  ii. 

388,  K. 
Simpson,  Joseph,  Esq.  i.  273,  381  ;  ii.  298. 

-  -  -  -    Johnson's  letter  to,  i.  273. 
Sin,  original,  iii.  241,  ^  seq. 

Skene,  Sir  John,  the  great  antiquary  of  Scotland,  iii.  114,  n. 

Slavery,  and  Slave  trade,  i.  446,  448,  456.      See  Negroes. 

Sleep,  ii.  419,  420. 

*  Slow,'   its   meaning  in  the  first  line  of  Goldsmith's  *  Traveller,'  ii. 

490. 
Smart,  Christopher,  i.  240,  312  ;  ii.  169. 
Smith,  Dr.  Adam,  iii.  45,  159,  294,  469. 
his  '  Wealth  of  Nations,  ii.  242. 

-  -  -    Captain,  iii.  71.  ^ 

-  -  -    Edmund,  his  verses  to  Pococke,  ii.  502. 
Smollet,  Tobias,  his  letter  to  Wilkes,  i,  275. 

Society,  civilized,   its   customs,  i.  343,  344,  349)  397,  463  ;  ii.  72, 

490,  497. 
Solamen   mtseris,    &c.  the  authour  of  that  line  yet  undiscovered,   iii. 

292   «. 
Soldiers,  ii.  285,  500  ;  iii.  70. 
Somerville,  Lord,   the  authour's  warm  and  grateful  remembrance  of 

him,  iii.  179. 
South,  Rev.  Dr.  i.  466  ;  ii.  485. 
Southwell,  Thomas,  the  second  Lord,  iii.  85,  285. 
.....  Thomas  George,  the  third  Lord,  iii.  138,  n. 

-  .  .  .  .  Viscountess,  Johnson's  letter  to,  iii.  138. 


INDEX.  53-7 

Southwell,  Hon.  Edmund,  iii.  138,  n. 
SpH.ish  Plays,  fit  only  for  children,  iii.  153. 
Spearing,  Mr.  the  attorney,  i.  107j «. 
«  Spectator,  the,'  ii.  59,  188,  302,  312. 

Spence,   the   Rev.    Joseph,  his  account  of  Blacklock's  description  of 
visible  objects,  unsatisfactory,  i.  364. 
-  -  his  '  Anecdotes,'  iii.  192. 
Spirits,  evil,  iii.  382. 
*  Spleen,  the,'  a  poem,  ii.  305. 
Stanhope,  Mr.  Lord  Chesterfield's  son,  i.  209. 
Stanton,  Mr.  the  actor,  ii.  268. 
Staunton,  Sir  George,  Johnson's  letter  to,  i.  289. 
Statuary  compared  with  Painting,  ii.  248,  472. 
Steel,  Right  Hon.  Thomas,  i.  116. 

-  -  -  Mr.   his  '  Prosodla  Rat'ionalis,'  ii.  155. 
Sir  Richard,  ii.  255  ;  iii.  182,  216. 

Steevens,  George,    Esq.  assists  in  Johnson's   Shakspeare,  i.  475  ;  ii. 

53. 
Johnson's  letters  to,  ii.  110,  11 ',  356. 

-  -  -  -    communications  from,   respecting  Johnson,  iii.  408,  $ff  seq. 
Sterne,  Rev.  Laurence,  ii.  67.      See  Tristram  Shandy. 

Stewart,  Francis,  Johnson's  amanuensis,  iii.  121. 
Stirling  Corporation,  ii.  191. 
Stopford,  Hon.  General  Edward,  ii.  193. 
Strahan,  William,  Esq.  i.  227  ;  ii.  153,  495  ;  iii.  72. 
.  .  -  _    his  letter  recommending  Johnson  to  be  brought  into  Parlia- 
ment, i.  494. 

-  -  -  -    jun.  his  death,  iii.  222. 

Mrs.  Johnson's  letters  to,  iii.  223,  257. 

Rev.  Mr.  iii.  367,  456,  488. 

Strickland,  Mrs.  ii.  374,  n. 

Stratford  Jubilee.      See  Garrick. 

Stuart  Family,  ii.  Q5. 

...»  Hon.  Colonel  James,  iii.  101,  113. 

-  >  -  -  Hon.  and  Rev.  WiUiam,  iii.  303. 

-  -  -  -  Andrew,  Esq.  his  letter  to  Lord  Mansfield,  ii.  73. 
Study,  method  of,  i.  60,  348,  359. 

Style,  iii.  4  ;  and  see  Temple,  Sir  William. 

-  -  -  of  English  writers,  how  far  distinguishable,  iii.  4. 

-  -  -  miserably  bad  in   general,   in  the  beginning  of  the  seventeenth 

century,  ii.  481. 

-  -  -  Johnson's,  remarks  on,  i.  178,  179  ;  ii-  423. 

-  -  -  various  kinds  of,  ii.  42. 

-  -  -  the  modern  much  superior  to  that  ofthe  last  century,  ii.  486 — 

and  to  that  of  the  reign  of  Queen  Anne. 

-  -  -  inftances  of  particular  imitations,  iii.  464,  465,  466,  467,  468. 
Subordination    necessary   for  society    and   human  happiness,  i.  320, 

345,  349,  397  ;  ii.  11,  156,  497  ;  iii.  88. 
--.....  the  ground  of  all  intellectual  improvements,  ii.  6."?. 


538  INDEX. 

Subordination  impaired  in  England,  in  modern  times,  by  the  increase 

of  money,  ii.  497. 
Suicide,  ii.  73  ;  iii.  266. 
Swallows,  i.  431. 
Swearing,  ii.  22,  437- 
Sweden,  the  late  King  of,  ii.  391. 

Swift,  Earl  Gower's  letter  to,  concerning  Johnson's  obtaining  a  de- 
gree, i.  108. 

-  -  -  Johnson's  opinion  of  his  Works,  i.  352,  439  ;  ii.  150. 

.- of  his  Journal — ^letters  to  Stella,  iii.  287. 

-  -  -  Johnson's  Life  of,  iii.  190. 

-  -  -  Delany's  and  Lord  Orrery's  account  of  him,  ii.  487. 
Swinfen,  Dr.  i.  56,  69, 

Swinton,  Rev.  Mr.  i.  214. 

Sydenham,  Dr.  Johnson's  Life  of,  i.  124. 

Sympathy  with  others  in  distress,  i.  457. 

T. 

Table  Talk,  Sir  Robert  Walpole's  rule  for,  ii.  319. 
Tacitus,  remarks  on  his  style,  ii.  40. 
Talbot,  Mrs.  Catherine,  i.  161. 
«  Tale  of  a  Tub,'  i.  352  ;  ii.  150. 
Taste,  ii.  42. 

-  -  -  alters  in  the  progress  of  life,  i.  398. 

Tastes  and   characters  of  men.    Sir  Joshua  Reynold's  standard  for 

judging  of  them,  iii.  402. 
Taverns,  ii.  257- 
*  Taxation  no  Tyranny,*  ii.  163. 
Taylor,  Rev.  Dr.  Johnson's  visit  to,  ii.  277,  392,  430  ;  iii.  457,  492. 

-  -  -  -  Johnson's  letters  to,  i.  1 89  ;  iii.  327,  365. 

-  -  -  -  anecdotes  of,  i.  41,  64,  157,  188  ;  ii.  277,  406,  430. 

-  -  -  -  Johnson's  characteristick  account  of,  ii.  395. 

-  -  -  -  the  Chevalier,  iii.  93. 

-  -  -  -  Jeremy,  iii.  385. 

-  -  -  -  the  Editor  of  Demosthenes,  iii,  34. 
Tea,  i.  245,  246.  * 

Temple,  Rev.  Mr.  (the  Authour's  old  and  intimate  friend,)  i.  344, 

396;  ii.  149. 
-----  his  well  written  character  of  Gray,  iii    269. 
-----  Sir  William,  first  gave  cadence  to  English  prose,  ii.  493. 
Tenderness,  a  want  of,  proof  of  a  want  of  parts,  i.  482. 
Testimony,  general,  i.  335,  347 — compared  with  argument,  iii.  375. 
Tests,"  ii.  152. 
Thames'  wit,  iii.  160. 
Theocritus,  iii.  142. 
Thomas,  Mr.  Nathanael,  ii.  350. 
Thomas  a  Kempis,  ii,  468  ;  iii.  373. 
Thomson,  Rev.  James,  ii.  320,  Sff  seq. 
the  Poet,  his  works,  i.  352,  438  ;  ii.  305. 


INDEX.  539 

Thomson,  the  Poet,  anecdotes  of,  ii.  373,  390  ;  iii.  69. 

Thornton,  Bonnel,  Esq.  his  burlesque  ode   for  St.  Cecilia's  Day,  i. 

Thralei^  Henry,  Esq.  i.  383,  447  ;  ii.  121  ;  iii.  137,  211. 

-  -  -  -  his  death,  iii.  211. 

-  -  -  -  sale  of  his  brewhouse,  iii.  212. 

-  -  -  -  Mrs.      See  Piozzi. 

Thuanus,  Johnson's  proposed  translation  of,  iii.  485. 

Thurlow,  Lord,  his   opinion  on  the  Liberty  of  the  Pulpit,  ii.  326, 

327. 
._  ...  his  letter  to  Johnson,  iii.  140. 
.  _  .  .  .  Johnson's  opinion  of,  iii.  289,  411. 

.....  his  letter  to  the  Authour  on  Johnson's  proposed  tour  to 
Italy,  iii.  417. 

Johnson's  letter  to  him  on  that  occasion,  iii.  429. 

Toleration,  ii.  90,  94,  95  ;  iii.  86,  149,  318. 

Topham's  case,  ii.  289. 

Toplady,  Rev.  Mr.  ii.  94. 

Torture  in  Holland,  i.  365. 

Tory,  Johnson's  description  of,  iii.  235,  383. 

-  -  -  moderate,  when  in  opposition  to  government,  iii.  222. 
Towers,  Dr.  Joseph,  ii.  148. 

-  -  -  -    his  '  Essay  on  the  Life,  &c.  Johnson,'  iii.  172. 
Townley^  Charles,  Esq.  ii.  374. 

Townly,  Mr.  (the  engraver,)  iii.  493,  n. 
Townsend,  Right  Hon.  Charles,  ii.  68. 
Townson,  Rev.  Dr.  iii.  391,  n. 
Trade,  Johnson's  remarks  on,  i.  460. 

-  -  -  -  ad  venturous,  more  persons  ruined  by  it,  than  by  gaming,  ii.295» 
Tradesmen  retired  from  business,  i.  480. 

Translation,  i.  71  ;  ii.  304,  493,  494. 

♦  Traveller,'  Goldsmith's  poem,  i.  376. 

----••-  Johnson's  lines  in,  i.  392 — his  high  praise  of,  ii.  78. 
TraveUing,  ii.  284,  304,  476,  502 ;  iii.  20,  397,  406. 
Travels,  the  Authour's,  iii.  20. 

-  -  -  -  books   of,  good  in  proportion  to  what  the  traveller  has  pre- 

viously in  his  mind,  iii.  21. 
Trimleston,  Lord,  ii.  469. 

Trinity,   Johnson's  belief  in,  and  just  disapprobation  of  its  being  dif- 
cussed  in  a  mixed  company,  ii.  95. 

*  Tristram  .Shandy,'  ii.  256. 

Truth,  importance  of  a  regard  to,  i.  341  ;  ii.    244,   245,  393,  470, 

471  ;  iii.  15,  105,  145,  146,  210,  280,  288,  393,  441. 
'  Turkish  Spy,'  authours  of,  iii.  SOi. 
Twiss's  <  Travels  in  Spain,'  ii.  169. 
Tyburn.      See  Execution  of  Criminals. 

Tyers,  Mr.  Thomas,  his  odd  description  of  Johnson,  iii.  26. 
...  -  anecdotes  of,  iii.  26.     ^ 
Tyravvly,  James  O'Hara,  second  Lord,  ii.  59. 
Tytler's  vindication  of  Mary,  Queen  of  Scots,  i.  278- 


540  INDEX. 


U. 

*  Universal  History,'  the  Authours  of,  iii.  4-61. 
Universities,  English,  not  rich  enough,  i.  429  ;  ii.  287> 
Urban,  Sylvanus,  Johnson's  latin  ode  to,  i.  94. 
Usher,  Archbishop,  i.  490. 
Usury,  ii.  297  ;  iii«  53. 


Valetudinarian,  generally  a  disagreeable  character,  ii.  265. 

'  Vanity  of  Human  Wishes,'  Johnson's  Poem,  i.  153,  399  ;  iii.  67- 

Vanity  cured  by  living  in  London,  i.  480. 

Vansittart,  Dr.  Robert,  i.  274. 

Vauxhall  Gardens,  iii.  26. 

Veal,  Mrs.  ii.  20. 

Vesey,  Agmondesham,  Esq.  iii.  162. 

*  Vicar  of  Wakefield,'  i.  325. 

___--_■-__.  written  before  the   *  Traveller,'  but  published 
after,  iii.  36. 

—  _-.._-__-  two  fine  passages,  originally  in  it,   struck  out 

by  the  Auttiour,  i'i.  82. 
Vilette,  Rev.  Mr.  (ordinary  of  Newgate,)  his  just  claims  on  the  pub- 
lick,  iii.  413. 
'Village,  Deserted,'  Goldsmith's,  i.  393. 

*  Village,'  Rev.  Mr.  Crabbe's,  iii.  286. 
Virgil,  compared  with  Homer,  ii.  440. 

-  -  -  -  Johnson's  juvenile  translations  from,  i.  45. 

-  -  -  -  Baskerville's  edition  of,  presented  by  Johnson  to  Pembroke 

College,  i.  441. 
Virtue  and  Vice,  iii.  61,  383. 

*  Vision  of  Theodore  the  Hermit,'    considered    by  Johnson  the  best 

thing  he  ever  wrote,  i.  153. 

*  Visitor,  th£  Universal,'  a  periodical  paper,  ii.  169. 
Vivacity,  ac(|uirable,  ii.  267. 

Volcanoes,  ii.  271- 

Voltaire,  i.  340,  388,  392,  396  ;  iii.  66. 
Vows,  i.  405,  408  ;  iii.  66,  67. 
Vyse,  Rev.  Dr.  ii.  381  ;  iii.  452,  «. 

—  -  Johnson's  letters  to,  ii.  381  ;  iii.  478. 

W. 

Wales,  Johnson's  visit  to,  ii.  120. 

Prince  of.      See  Prince. 

Walker,  J.  Cooper,  Esq.  of  the  Treasury  Dublin,  i.  251  ;  ii.  36S. 

~  -  -  -  James,  iii.  309,  310. 

Wall,  Dr.  Physician  at  Oxford,  iii.  384. 

Wall  of  China,  ii.  503- 


INDEX.  sn 

Waller,  the  poet,  ii.  180  ;  iii.  30. 

. extract  from  his  '  Divine  Poesy,'  iii.  382. 

-  -  -  -  Johnson's  Life  of,  iii.  170. 
Walmsley,  Gilbert,  Esq.  i.  66,  68,  158. 

-  -  -       -  his  letter,  recommending  Johnson  and  Garrick,  i.  84. 
Walpole,  Hon.  Horace,  iii.  401. 

Sir  Robert,  his  Administration  defended,  i.  106. 

...  -  -  his  Table  talk,  ii.  319. 

Walton,  Isaac,  his  Lives,  ii.  116,  119,  183,  253,  363. 

Wapping,  worth  being  explored,  iii.  305. 

War,  ii.  500. 

Warburton,  i.  143,  206,  259. 

made  a  Bishop  by  Pope,  i.  419- 

his  contest  with  Lowth,  i.  419. 

Johnson's  character  of,  iii.  177,  178,  380. 

....--  his  judgement  concerning  biographers,  i.  27. 
Ward,  the  noted  Dr.  iii.  93. 
Warley  Camp,  iii.  69,  &c. 

Warren,  the  first  bookseller  in  Birmingham,  i.  70. 
_  .  -  .  Dr.    his  generous  attendance  on  Johnson,   during  his  last  ill- 
ness, iii.  476. 
Warton,  Rev.  Dr.  Joseph,  his  Essay  on  the  Life  and  Genius  of  Pope, 
i.  350  ;  ii.  22. 

-  -  -  -  Johnson's  letters  to,  i.  198,  475. 

-  -  -  -   Rev.  Thomas,  i.  8,  252,  258,  261,  263  ;  ii.  254  ;  iii.  146. 
.  _  -  .  his  entertaining   account  of  Johnson's   conversation  when  at 

Oxford,  in  1752,  i.  212. 

-  -  -  -  Johnson's  letters  to,   i.   211,  216,  217,  218,  219,  223,  229, 

230,  252,  261,  262,  441,  475. 
Waste,  household,  hardly  definable,  ii.  499. 
Watson,  Rev.  Dr.  (Bishop  of  LandafF,)  iii.  236. 
Watts,  Dr.  his  works,  i.  245. 
...  his  Life,  ii.  382  ;  iii.  68. 
Wealth,  the  right  employment  of,  iii.  285. 
Weather,  its  influence,  i.  334,  352  ;  ii.  179  ;  iii.  440,  «. 
Webster,  Rev.  Dr.  Alexander,  ii.  106,  111. 
Wedderburne.      See  Lotighbor  ugh. 
Welch,  Saunders,  Esq.  ii.  459,  462  ;  iii.  293. 

Johnson's  letter  to,  ii.  459. 

Wentworth,  Mr.  Johnson's  schoolmaster  at  Stourbridge,  i.  44. 
Wesley,  Rev.  John,  ii.  472  ;  iii.  17. 

-  -  -  -  Johnson's  letter  to,  iii.  97- 
West's  '  Pindar,'  iii.  162. 

Westcote,  Lord,  confirms  to  Johnson  the  truth  of  his  nephew's  vis. 

ion,  iii.  388. 
Westminster  Abbey,  first  Musical  Festival  at,  iii.  376. 
Wetherell,  Rev.  Dr.  ii.  250  ;  iii.  396. 
......  Jolmson's  letter  to,  ii.  236. 

Wheeler,  Rev.  Dr.  Johnson's  letter  to,  iii.  74. 
Whiggism,  a  negation  of  all  principle,  i.  338. 
VOL.  III.  69 


542  INDEX, 

Whigs,  Johnson's  definition  of,  iii.  235. 

_  ...  no  great  private  enmity  between  them  and  Tories,  iii.  383. 

White,  Rev.  Mr.  Henry,  iii.  452. 

-  -  -  -   Rev.  Dr.  Joseph,  ii.  56. 

Whitefield,  Rev.  George,  his  character,  i.  64-,  449  ;  iii.  109. 
Whitefoord,  Caleb,  Esq.  iii.  407- 
Whitehead,  Paul,  Esq.  i.  103. 
William,  Esq.  i.  30  ;  iii.  233. 

*  Whole  Duty  of  Man,'  conjectures  on  its  authour,  ii.  80. 
Wife,  praise  from  one,  delightful,  i.  167. 

-  -   -  qualities  of.  Sir  Thomas  Overbury's  verses  on,  i.  446. 

-  -  .  a  studious,  argumentative  one,  very  troublesome,  iii.  165. 
Wilcox,  Mr.  the  Bookseller,  i.  85. 
Wilkes,  John.  Esq.  hhjeu  d' esprit  on  Johnson's  Dictionary,  i.  236. 

-  .  -  -  meetings  between  hirw  and  Johnson,  ii.  331,  ^   seg.  ;  iii.  223.  \ 
....  Johnson's  opinion  of,  ii.  432.  3 

-  -  -  -  anecdotes  of  gallantry  related  by  him,  iii.  427.  i 

-  -  -  -  his  advice   how   to   speak  at  the  Bar  of  the  House  of  Com-  ' 

mons,  ii.  467. 

-  -  -  -  his  pleasantry  on  Johnson  and  himself  as  to  their  politicks  and  < 

religion,  ii.  467. 
William  III.  King,  ii.  166. 
Williams,  Mr.  Zachary,  i.  185,  215,  237,  238. 

Mrs.  Anna,  i.  185,  329,  361,  461  ;  ii.  9,  330,  351,   353, 

385,  389  ;  iii.  72. 
-----  her  general  peevishness,  ii.  297,  463  ;  iii.  218. 
.  -  -  -  .  Johnson's  tenderness  for  her,  ii.  297  ;  iii.  54. 

her  death,  iii.  333,  338. 

Miss  Helen  Maria,  iii.  375,  376. 

-----  Sir  Charles  Hanbury,  i.  417. 

Wilson,  Rev.  Mr.  Johnson's  letter  to,  iii.  276. 

Windham,  Right  Hon.  William,  ii.  375  ;  iii.  304,  486,  488. 

-  -  „  „  .     Johnson's  high  eulogium  on,  iii.  436,  ,; 
-----    Johnson's  letters  to,  iii.  325,  442. 

Wine,  the  use  of,  ii.  39,  43,  246,  30S,  421,  482,  483,  487  ;  iu.  24, 

41,  49,  92,200,  206,215. 
Wirtemberg,  Prince  of,  anecdote  of,  ii.  33. 
Wit,  iii.  225. 

Witches,  ii.  31  ;  iii.  87.      See  Shakspeare. 
Woodhouse,  the  poetical  shoemaker,  i.  486. 
Words,  big  ones,  not  to  be  used  for  little  matters,  i.  367* 

*  World,  the,'  Periodical  Essays,  i.  329. 
Wraxall,  N.  W.  Esq.  iii.  124. 

X. 

Xenophon's  Treatise  on  Economy,  ii.  351. 

*  Retreat  of  the  Ten  Thousand,'  (Booki.)    affords  the 

earliest  specimen  of  a  delineation  of  characters,  iii.  165. 
Xerxes,  Juvenal's  fine  verses  on,  ii.  72. 


INDEX,      ,  <43 


Yonge,  Sir  William,  i.  158  ;  ii.  18. 

Young,  Rev.  Dr.  his  '  Night  Thoughts,'  i.  1Y2,  459  ;  iii.  189. 

-  -  -  -  Johnson's  Life  of,  iii.  187. 

-  -  -  -  anecdotes  of,  iii.  1&8    189,  237,  238,  239. 

-  -  .  .  pined  for  preferment,  yet  affected  to  despise  it,  ii.  488. 

-  -  -  -  his  fine  image  of  delicate  satire,  iii.  388. 

-  -  -  -  Mr.  (Professor  of  Greek  at   Glasgow,)  his  *  Criticisms  on 

Gray's  Elegy,'  in  imitation  of  Johnson,  iii.  470. 


Zeck,  anecdote  of,  i.  393. 
*  Zobeide,'  a  Tragedy,  ii.  306. 


CREENOUGH  AtfD  STEBBINS,  PRINTERS. 


^ 


Date  Due 


V  >  •$'r 


824.63     J3S*Z»3aV.3  273655 


